


Near Death Experiences

by monch_monch



Category: One Piece
Genre: 'step-brother' in italics at all times, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Modern Era, Pining Is Narrated By The Whitebeards, Slow Burn, Some Humor, ace/endless mortification, akainu is a LITERAL sith lord, casual child abuse, flirting so bad that you cant even call it flirting, intense partying, lots of fluff, tw for marineford arc LMAO, update: angst is more intense than i thought
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22896898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monch_monch/pseuds/monch_monch
Summary: "Were we... lovers, in our past life?" Ace asked, with some level of trepidation.Luffy's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "Were wewhatnow."
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Portgas D. Ace
Comments: 378
Kudos: 537
Collections: Mine favoritter., Reincarnation and Transmigration





	1. Have We Met?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace, almost encountering death, instead encounters Luffy for the first time.

The first thing Ace registered was the thick, musty quality of open night-air. 

He shuddered softly, feeling damp. It must have drizzled in the evening. 

“Oh, shit. He’s waking up,” a disembodied voice muttered, somewhere above him. It seemed close, yet distant. _Who’s waking up?_

_Oh,_ Ace thought. 

_Me._

He realized that his ass ached a little, and his legs felt numb from the awkward angle in which he slept on the park bench. Narcolepsy had never hit him at a convenient time. Ace eased up, back cracking loosely, and he focused himself out of his daze. 

He realized then, that someone was talking to him. Or about him. 

Ace squinted, looking around. There was no one there. “Who the fu-”

A solid _thwack!_ resounded in the park, and he was sent reeling back into the wood. Pain thundered into his head. _“Who the f-”_

Another _thwack_ , now on his upper torso. The hits were coming from behind. Adrenaline pumping, Ace stumbled frantically off of the bench. His face felt strange, and his stomach churned nauseously. 

The man turned around, yelling, _“Who the fuck are you?”_

“Shut up, you arrogant little shit,” was the response, followed by another searing hit to the head. Ace cursed loudly, tumbling backwards. _A bat,_ he thought, in a dizzy haze. _Or some other kind of heavy stick. A pole?_ “Not so strong when you’re taken off guard, huh?” 

The brunette glanced up blearily, getting a grip of himself. His attacker slid out into the night air, walking into the light of the streetlamps. 

_“Teach,”_ Ace hissed, glaring at the now-illuminated man. Marshall D. Teach. 

“You fucking c-coward…” He pulled himself up, straightening his back. “Only you would pull shit like this.” 

Teach was a large, foul older man who’d hit the end of his career in the Whitebeard gang in his late 30s. Ace, despite being almost twenty years his junior, had been the one to kick him out. 

“Shouldn’t we dispose of him more _quietly?”_ A voice called, behind the older man. “Beating him down in Whitebeard territory is a bit of a declaration.” 

Teach laughed, echoing in the darkness of the open air. “Nothing wrong with a few declarations, here and there.”

Ace grit his teeth, fighting off a searing headache. “Oh, yeah... Scuttle in the dark, and attack me when I fall asleep, like the rat you are,” he muttered, with some humor. “That’s a fuckin’ declaration, alright.” 

Teach scowled. The voice behind him chuckled, lowly. 

“You can’t talk so much shit when you’re dead,” the older man replied, finally. His grin returned. “I’m going to finish you off, now.” He swung the pole in the air, wind whistling around it’s form. 

Ace caught the pole with his bare fist, grunting from the sheer pressure. Teach was strong, stronger than he'd ever pretended to be in the past. Or maybe it was the blood loss speaking. His eyes hazed over, dulling from another wave of fatigue, but Ace held on to dear consciousness. _Not now,_ he begged his body, internally. _Don’t give up on me now._

With that in mind, the brunette gripped tightly to the pole and jabbed it deep into Teach’s chest, pushing him back. The older man grunted heavily, stumbling from the hit, and swung the weapon out of the younger man's hands. “Too much fight in you,” Teach muttered, rubbing his newly-formed bruise. 

“Hurry up and get rid of him,” the voice in the background urged. “This is taking too long.” 

Ace squinted, glaring into the trees behind Teach’s form. _Who the hell **is** that?_

It was a new moon that night, with deep-set shadows. Darkness overwhelmed the parts of the town that weren’t illuminated. Try as he might, Ace saw nothing. 

“I’m working on it!” Teach replied. He drove in another hit, and when Ace caught the pole’s end, Teach dug into him, pushing the point against the younger man until Ace felt the rough wood of a tree on his back. “Nowhere to run,” the man sang. 

“I don’t need to run,” Ace spat, through gritted teeth. 

He gripped the pole, and his foot swung an arc in the air, kicking Teach’s weapon right out of his hands. “If I needed to run from someone like you, I wouldn’t have been cut out to be your commander.” The young brunette smiled, cheekily. 

Teach glared back at him, reaching for yet another weapon- this time, a military style blade. The older man had all sorts of weapons on him, it seemed. “I don’t miss your command,” Teach commented, grinning. “Always thought you were a loudmouth runt, like the rest of them. That old Whitebeard sure knows how to pick sentimental dumbasses.” 

Ace snarled, swinging the pole erratically towards his enemy. “You don’t get to talk about Whitebeard, you _son of a bitch!”_ He dove forward, dizzy and angry all at once. 

Teach laughed, diving in with the knife. “Oh, commander. Hot-headed as usual.” 

Ace saw that metallic glint in the dark, and turned his hip away, dodging the blade easily. "You'll need more than a knife, assh—"

"Pay attention, Ace," Teach muttered. He charged in, ever closer, and buried the knife's hilt into the tree, cornering Ace's other side with the cold metal of a gun. The commander felt his blood rush to his head, rough wood digging marks into his bare back. _"Nowhere to run,"_ his mind supplied, unhelpfully. He gripped the pole in his hands, deciding that running wasn't his style anyway. 

“Ah," Teach said, eyeing the pole. The man lifted the barrel of the gun, nestling it comfortably into Ace's ribcage. He drew down the hammer, with a click and a smile. 

“I _told_ you not to use a gun, Teach,” that voice in the dark hissed. “Too damned loud, we need to do this quietly.” 

“Shaddup, there’s a silencer on it.” Through the pounding haze in his head, Ace willed his body to react, to do _anything-_

 _“STOP!”_ A voice rang out, in the dark. 

Teach cursed, loudly. He leaned up, pointing the gun out of sight. 

“Someone’s coming over,” the voice murmured, sinking further from the light. 

Ace backed off into the tree, eyes wide and searching. He saw the form of a young teenager in the distance, barreling towards their location. “Go away!” He called, urgently. “It’s danger—”

Teach interrupted him with a frantic shot, missing only due to Ace’s responding swing. The younger man felt his ears ring in his head. “Shit…” 

The teen dove into Teach’s much larger form, grappling the man into the concrete. In what was perhaps one of the riskiest moves Ace had ever witnessed, the stranger wrestled the gun right out of Teach’s hand, tossing it down the street like it was a baseball rather than a loaded weapon. 

“You idiot!” Ace wheezed, “That could have misfired-”

“I’ll kill you!” The teen roared, blasting the much older man with a barrage of punches. Teach’s jaw dropped in surprise. “What the hell, kid?” he cried, in a mixture of pain and disbelief. “Stay out of this!” 

Teach reached back, backing off from the teen’s reckless assault. He pulled out yet another gun. In the commander's turbulent haze, he remembered that his ex-subordinate always carried three. 

Ace felt his heart sink to the floor. “Kid,” he urged, “Get out of here, right now-” 

Within a moment’s notice, Teach drew the weapon, firing an urgent shot into the teen’s shoulder. He’d been aiming for the heart. There was a flurry of desperate motion, but after a second, the boy wailed, dropping to his knees. 

“Teach!” The voice in the background yelled. “We need to leave, _now.”_

Teach stared down at the boy's bleeding form, eyes wide. He scrambled to right himself, tucking away the gun. This one didn’t have a silencer. "Who the hell is this kid?" He asked, more to himself. 

“It doesn’t matter, he’ll probably die! Let’s go.” 

“I’m not done with Ace-”

“Look,” the voice spat. “Ace is dead already.” 

Teach swivelled his head, assessing the commander's limp form.

Ace was sat against a tree, head hung low. The pole laid next to his barren, motionless hand. There was no other sound from his body, only fresh blood dripping into the grass. Teach took a shuddering breath, and nodded an affirmation. "Okay, okay, he's dead."

The boy whimpered. 

“Ace,” he murmured, a frightened sound. His injury pooled blood down his arm, soaking his shirt and the ground below his knees. 

“This kid will die, too. We need to retrieve the other gun. This has taken too long...” 

With that, they disappeared into the night, running off to collect Teach’s first gun. Ace waited until he heard them round the corner, and then he waited another few seconds for extra measure. He heard the sounds of shuffling, and opened his eyes. 

“Ace,” the teen whispered again, when the man looked up to him. 

The brunette sucked in a breath. The teen’s shirt was dark with blood. “Jesus, kid, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you.” He reached frantically for his phone, luckily undamaged from the scuffle. 

“I… I thought you died,” the teen sniffled. Tears built up in his eyes, leaking out like a faucet that needed to be fixed. 

Ace’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t prepared to deal with this sudden emotional display. “Uh, I... pretended to die, so that they could leave more quickly. I need to call you an ambulance, right now.” He was already dialing as he spoke. 

“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?” 

The man explained everything as quickly and calmly as he could, from their location to the severity of the wound. When he finished, he passed a quick glance at the time. 10:32 PM. 

Bleeding out from a gunshot wound could kill someone within five to ten minutes. With a quiet urgency, Ace felt his thoughts rearrange themselves, preparing for all the inevitable problems at hand, though first he had to ask— 

“What the _hell_ were you thinking, kid?” 

“I’m not a k-kid,” the teen muttered, gripping his wounded shoulder tightly. “I’m... seventeen.” 

The man scoffed, despite the situation. “Okay, _kid.”_ Granted, he himself was only twenty.

“What’s your name?” Ace asked, suddenly serious.

A pause. “L-Luffy,” the kid answered, voice affected by pain. 

“Okay, okay.” Ace eased up, glancing down at the damaged shoulder. He decided then and there that Luffy, seventeen, was absolutely not going to die on him. “You’re doing good, Luffy. Hold onto your injury, make sure you’re putting a lot of pressure on it. We have to stop the bleeding, at least till the ambulance gets here.” Ace suddenly felt glad for any medical assistance Marco had given him over the years. He searched his mind, thinking quickly for some bit of information that could serve him now. 

The man crawled over, raising his own hands to the wound. “Keep your hand there. I’m going to help you, now.” Luffy nodded dazedly in response. 

Ace eased his hands over the teen’s, pushing down with his own strength. The teen cried out, but the older man hushed him. “It’s fine, Luffy, I’m doing this to slow down your bleeding. We have to make sure it stops, yeah?” 

Luffy leaned into the crook of his shoulder, nodding with a shiver. “Okay…”

Ace swallowed thickly, feeling hyper-aware of the boy’s mussed up hair tickling his neck. Within a few minutes, an ambulance arrived on scene, EMS responders ushering the both of them into the back of the van. Before 11, they made it to the hospital. 

* * *

“Here you are, yoi.” 

Ace looked up. He was in a hospital hallway, surrounded by endless tiles, white walls, distant machines, and printed labels. He’d been occupying a plastic blue chair for hours, waiting on Luffy’s emergency operation. 

“Marco,” he muttered, voice thick with relief. Marco was one of the few officers in the Whitebeard gang who outranked him, though the gang didn’t care too deeply for hierarchy. It was nice to see a welcome, familiar face. 

“What happened, yoi? You were freaking out when you called me, and now I show up only to see you looking like a disaster.” Marco loosely appraised his wounds, glancing at the bandages wrapped neatly on Ace’s head and body. “How many people were there?” 

“You mean, how many attacked?” Ace clarified. Marco nodded, eyes questioning. 

“One,” the brunette answered, reluctantly. “Teach.”

The blonde’s gaze grew serious. He settled down in a chair next to his fellow commander, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s the problem with having a traitor. They know all our weaknesses,” Ace muttered. “I’m pretty sure he was waiting to catch me off guard- I’d just woken up from a narcolepsy episode, and the park I was sitting near had been completely abandoned.” 

Marco nodded along. “If Teach is trying to target more Whitebeard members, it makes sense for him to start with you. You were his commander, and he knows your patterns best.” 

“He’s fucking disgraceful,” Ace replied, firmly. “I mean, I am, too, for getting beat down because I have a napping problem...” 

The blonde laughed, heartily. “What did I tell you, yoi?” He held up a hand, counting instructions with each finger. “Establish regular sleeping hours, for one. Power-nap in the afternoon, everyday. No caffeine or alcohol before bed. No heavy meals or working out before bed, either…” The commander prattled off, in an impressive imitation of Ace’s doctor. The younger man sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Yeah, yeah, I learned my lesson…” 

“So, why’d you call me out here, yoi? From the looks of your treatment, you’re probably fit for discharge.” 

“I am. Turns out most of my blood loss was from a vein, and my arteries were fine. I just need to apply some ointment, change my bandages, you know the drill.” 

“Nice,” Marco smiled. He eased up, out of the old plastic chair. “Let’s get going then. You’re looking a little hungry, and there’s still some good diners open at…” Marco checked his phone. “2:41 AM...” There goes ‘regular sleeping hours’.

“Can we wait a little longer?” 

The older man glanced at him questioningly. 

“I… I’m waiting on someone’s surgery. A nurse updated me, said it might be finished within the hour.” 

“A surgery…?”

Ace hesitated. This segment of his story, he wasn’t sure how to explain. “I didn’t mention it earlier, because I was pretty fucked up by the time it all happened. I don’t even know if I remember everything correctly.” 

Marco settled back in his chair, raising a brow. “Yeah?” 

“Teach was going to shoot me,” Ace elaborated. He pointed at a spot on his torso, right in the middle of his ribcage. “He had a gun digging into my skin, right around here. I thought I was going to die then and there.” 

The blonde stared down at that spot, eyes unreadable. “Go on.”

“But right as he was pulling down the hammer, someone screamed ‘STOP!’ at the top of their lungs. Next thing I know, there’s a fucking teenager barreling right into Teach, beating the shit out of him and threatening to kill him. That kid saved me, tonight,” Ace said, with a laugh. 

“Is he the one in the operating room right now?” Marco asked, eyes glancing at the closed door on their side. 

“Yeah, he is. That kid has some fucking balls, I’ll tell you. He took Teach’s gun and,” Ace imitated a baseball pitcher, with a little whoosh for effect, “-And he tossed it two blocks down. I thought it was going to fire for sure. Mind you, Teach is like, three times his size.” 

Marco chuckled under his breath. “Sounds like a crazy bastard, yoi. What happened that he needed surgery?”

“Well, Teach had another gun,” Ace stated, simply. “He shot the kid, right in the shoulder. I freaked out- I needed Teach to get the hell out of there, so I played dead. So then he left in a hurry, because he thought someone was gonna find him after all that ruckus.” 

They took a moment of silence as Ace collected his groggy, more panicked thoughts. 

“When Teach left, the kid was crying.” 

Marco scoffed. “I mean, he did just get shot, yoi.”

The younger man smacked him in the arm, playfully. “I don’t mean _that._ I mean, yeah, there was that, too, but... He was crying because he thought I died. He was calling my name, and crawling over to me, and- and his _expression_ when I looked up-” Ace stopped. 

He knew how ridiculous this all sounded, but the younger man persisted anyway. “Marco, this kid didn’t look at me like we were strangers. He looked at me like he-...” _loved me,_ “...-cared about me.”

 _“What?_ Are you sure you haven’t met this kid before?” 

Ace sighed, staring perplexedly at the ground. “I swear I have _never_ met this kid before! I’ve been sitting here thinking about it for like, 2 hours. I mean, it doesn’t really matter whether I know him or not, at this point…” 

“Because he took a shot for you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’s his name, yoi? I’ll see if I can scrounge out anything about him…” 

Ace scrambled back into his memories, pulling out the only two details he knew about the boy. “His name’s Luffy, and he’s seventeen.”

* * *

A few minutes after their conversation, a nurse emerged from the operating room and informed Ace of the teen’s condition. It was stabilized, thankfully, though Luffy would need to remain in the hospital for some extended period of time, especially for physical rehabilitation. 

“As it stands now, he’s been heavily sedated and he’s going to be resting for the remainder of the day. You can visit him during our open hours of 10 AM to 8 PM, though there will also be a resting period in which he’ll be unavailable.”

“How about tomorrow afternoon,” Marco suggested, glancing towards the younger man. “We can both visit, yoi.”

“The afternoon should be fine,” The nurse informed. 

Ace shrugged, peaking at the operation door. “Whatever works. Let’s get food, then… I haven’t eaten dinner yet.” 

The discussion was settled. Ace left the hospital in a mild brooding mood, and the two commanders wandered around until they reached a 24/7 diner on the edge of the city. It was nearly empty, save the random traveller or night-shift worker. 

They settled down in a booth, and soon enough, Ace’s late dinner arrived in the form of a classic burger-and-fries combo. The two bickered over drink choices for a bit (“I can’t even have some fucking soda?” Ace muttered with no small irritation. “Soda’s got caffeine, yoi.”) but eventually, they settled with fresh glasses of iced water, and Marco nursed a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup. 

“You know,” the younger man mumbled, through a mouthful of food, “I didn’t mention it earlier, cause I had no idea what was going on.” 

“Mention what?” Marco glanced up from the bowl he was lazily stirring. 

Ace leaned in, suddenly serious. “There was someone else there.” 

The blonde raised a brow. “Oh? You said there was only one, yoi.”

“I know, I know. But I didn’t get a chance to see that other person. I tried looking, but it's hard to focus on a detail like that when you’re in the middle of a fight.” 

Ace shut his eyes, letting the memories flit back into him. He tried to remember that voice, the one submerged in the darkness behind Teach. “It sounded like a man,” he began, after a moment of thought. “...Gruff. Gave orders. Teach wanted to kill me in the open, where the Whitebeards could find me, but this man seemed to want me dead and disappeared. He got angry that Teach brought a gun, so I’m pretty sure his aim was to have me quietly killed off and hidden somewhere.” 

“Sounds shady,” Marco commented, contemplating the matter.

“He was. I tried looking around but I couldn’t see him at all. He was hiding the whole time.” 

The blonde nodded. “Hmm… So Teach is working with someone… We ought to keep an eye on Luffy, yoi. They’re probably going to come after you again, and any possible witnesses.” 

“Of course,” Ace replied, easily. Though he’d literally only met the strange teen 5 hours before, it didn’t change the fact that Luffy had almost died on his behalf. Ace felt a wave of responsibility creep up on him. 

“I should talk to Luffy about all this,” the brunette contemplated, “When we vis-”

Ace dipped face-first into his plate of fries. 

Within seconds, he was asleep. 

Marco sighed. 

After an embarrassing escort out of a Denny’s parking lot at 3 AM, Marco managed to wake Ace up just enough to forcibly drag him home to his apartment. That night, the older man insisted on staying over, for peace of mind more than anything else. 

Ace reluctantly agreed, though he was rather indignant about it. 

* * *

At some point in the late afternoon, Luffy awoke. He was immobilized, arm caught in a rigid cast. He realized dizzily that he was in a hospital room. 

_“What the hell were you thinking, kid?”_

His vision hazed, and events from the night before flooded into him like a tidal wave. Luffy felt his heart speed up, yet in the same breath, his stomach churned in dread. For the first time in this lifetime, he'd seen both Ace and Blackbeard. Ace remembered nothing from their shared past life; of this fact, Luffy knew. It stung him, but at the same time, there was no feeling that could replace his joy when his past-brother held onto him in the dark. For that alone, the teen had been ready to die. 

Luffy had been waiting almost all his life, wondering when he was fated to meet his late brother. He'd met plenty of others; friends and family who were as star-crossed in this life as the last one. The teen's past memories were distant ones, and they flitted by in scrambled pieces, conjoining messily with the memories he made in his present life.

However, Ace was different. Luffy's old visions of the man had burned themselves into his mind, crisp, vivid, and all too-real. Sometimes Luffy had wondered what the point of remembering was, if he was never going to meet his brother anyway. 

17 years stretched long. 

The door to his hospital room opened, and the teen's eyes drifted over, hoping in the bottom of his heart that Ace had come back for him. 

He sucked in a breath.

It was not Ace.

"This is the kid?" The man muttered, glancing back at his lieutenant. "Scrawny one, for sure." 

Luffy wanted to groan. He remembered this guy, and vaguely enough, that girl, too. 

"Hello," the girl announced. She was dressed in a crisply pressed uniform, adorning a little silver badge engraved with TASHIGI. "I'm lieutenant Tashigi, and this is captain Smoker." She motioned towards the irritable man hovering behind her. "We're detectives from the city's police department. Do you have a moment?" 

Smoker squinted at the teen, glaring down at him with added menace. Luffy broke into a sweat under the stare, briefly wondering if the man recognized him. "S-Sure," he responded, shakily. The girl smiled professionally. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything—"

 _"Yet,"_ Smoker cut in.

"—Captain! Like I said, we just have a few questions about the events that happened last night." Tashigi whipped out a notepad. "Just so you know, if you don't feel physically or emotionally up for this, you can say so and we'll come back at a later time. Are you alright with answering?" 

Luffy hesitated. _Is Ace a criminal?_ The teen wondered, in mild distress. _Teach definitely is._ His head spun, debating whether he should tell the truth or make up a lie. 

"Well are you answering or not, kid?" Smoker piped up, crossing his arms. "We don't have all day." 

_Who am I kidding?_ Luffy realized, then. 

_This is captain Smoker we're talking about. Of course I have to lie._ He could hardly imagine a lifetime where he and Smoker were on the same side of the law. 

Following his instincts, the teen nodded, and buckled down for what he knew would be a stressful interview. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i wanted to try a reincarnation au. hope you enjoy it (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> also, forgive me if any medical info is wrong... ive never been shot, luckily ('～`;)


	2. Living Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy partakes in something suspiciously similar to a witness protection program.

4 PM heralded Marco's and Ace's visit to the hospital, after a short briefing on the matters of Teach. Whitebeard, or rather, Edward Newgate, had instructed them to stand down until they gathered more relevant information. Most importantly, they needed some leads on who Teach teamed up with, and why. 

He’d also asked, on a lighter note, about meeting this now-infamous Luffy. Most of the other commanders were curious as well.

Ace smelled the inklings of _‘new recruit’_ in the air. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed, you know,” Marco stated, trudging the hospital halls with Ace. “To having Luffy join, I mean. I haven’t met him yet but I’ve got a good feeling.” 

Ace shoved his hands in his pockets. Naturally, the thought had passed his mind. “He’s probably still in high school, though.” 

“Ace, yoi... You joined when you were 14.” 

“Well, I went to a shitty high school, and I made some shitty decisions." 

The man grinned, adding on, “Not that I regret it. There are worse gangs to join out there.” The Whitebeards were mostly concerned with territory, and the maintenance of businesses and community. They were powerful, yes, but more innocuous than some of the gangs further out in the city. Whitebeard himself was firm on the idea that people couldn’t live without morals.

In all honesty, Newgate would have legalized the gang a long time ago if law enforcement—and politicians, for that matter—of the inner city weren’t so corrupt. Likewise, most who joined the Whitebeards did so for protection— and connections, as well. Maintaining a code outside of the law was crucial in their situation. As for whether Luffy fit in that code was another matter. 

“I’ll think about asking him,” Ace muttered. “We should probably worry about his injuries first. And Teach.” 

They rounded a corner, finally landing on the correct hallway for the teen's room. Almost immediately, Marco backed them up and hid behind the wall. “Shh,” he hissed, quietly. 

There were two officers by Luffy’s bedside. From this short distance, they could catch some of the exchange, but neither were willing to risk being seen. 

“Can you recall any important details on the person who assaulted you?” A woman’s voice rang out, clear and polite. “Like, any identifying features? Tattoos, scars, and so on…”

There was a pause. 

“Nuh-uh,” Luffy replied. “It was really dark, so I couldn’t see much.”

Silence. The hospital machines seemed deafening. 

“You don’t remember a _single_ detail?” A low voice, male, muttered. It sounded distinctly like the gravelly voice of a smoker— police captain Smoker, to be specific. In which case, the woman was most likely lieutenant Tashigi. 

“Those are some big name cops for an incident like this,” Marco whispered, thoughtfully. 

“Seriously,” Ace murmured back. “Don’t they have a whole squad of underlings to do shit work like this?”

“What about the person who assisted you?” The woman, Tashigi, continued, accompanied by the sounds of scribbling in a notebook. “We have a report from a nurse that someone called an ambulance and stayed for the duration of your surgery.” _Oh shit,_ Ace thought. _That’s me._ “I know you were suffering a heavy injury at the time, but it would help if you let us know any details about this person. They could be a crucial eye-witness to your case.”

Another silent pause. 

“...I really don’t know,” Luffy stated, with a cheery unease. “I think I was out for a while by then, because I don’t remember seeing anyone.” 

The captain cracked down on him instantly. “You’re _lying,”_ he snapped.

Tashigi protested for a moment, but Smoker continued regardless. “A gunshot wound bleeds out fast. Someone has to arrive on scene immediately, and if you pass out, you’re practically dead. Whoever called the ambulance was either at the scene, or very close by— and you would’ve been conscious for it.” 

“Damn,” Ace muttered, brows raised. “He doesn’t lead the detective division for nothing.”

“No kidding, yoi...”

There was the sound of a chair scraping the floor, and a heavy thud. Smoker had settled down, it seemed. “Listen, kid. I don’t need my 12 years of experience to tell me that you’re full of shit. It’s all over your face. You’re a god awful liar.”

“Captain,” Tashigi murmured. “He did just get shot, you know. He might be too frightened about the whole thing…” 

“He’s not frightened of anything,” Smoker replied, with confidence. “At least, I don’t think he is. I think he’s trying to protect someone.” 

Luffy made a weird muffled sound. _Oh god,_ Ace thought. 

Marco turned a glance towards the other commander, muttering under his breath. “Does Luffy know you’re in a gang?” 

The younger man shook his head, shrugging helplessly. “I didn’t mention it. I really don't know why he's lying... Like, he's so _bad_ at it, he should probably stop. This is getting kind of embarrassing." Marco huffed a breath, stifling a laugh. 

“Who was it?” Smoker asked, abruptly. “Who called the ambulance? You’ve got enough nervous tics written on your face to tell me that you definitely know.”

The commanders held their breaths. 

“I-I don’t remember,” Luffy replied, finally, voice cracking like he’d just hit puberty. Ace couldn’t see him, but he was sure that the teen was sweating under Smoker’s glare. 

“Poor kid,” Marco muttered in sympathy. “Smoker’s an infamous hardass. He’ll never let this go, yoi.” 

The man in question uttered a deep sigh. Unsurprisingly, he finished the interaction with a threat. “Luffy is your name, yeah? I’m going to find you again, Luffy. This won’t be the last time we see each other, not until you tell the truth.” 

Luffy didn’t reply. 

“Let’s go, lieutenant. We’ll need other leads.” 

“Yes, sir!”

They exited the room, rounding off to the nearest elevator. Marco and Ace didn’t dare emerge until they heard those steps disappear into the distance.

* * *

When Ace stepped into the room, the expression on Luffy’s face was distracted and pensive. 

Within a moment of noticing the man, the teen’s expression changed visibly- there was a sunshine glimmer in his eye, and a cheek-splitting grin on his face. Smoker was right about one thing; the teen couldn’t hide his true thoughts if he tried.

Marco followed, watching Luffy’s expression with no small amount of amusement. “You’ve got one hell of a fanboy, Ace.”

“I’m not a popstar,” the man muttered in return. 

He stood in front of the positively brimming teen. Luffy’s shoulder was completely wrapped and thickly protected in a cast, and he was adorned in a tacky little hospital gown. Despite this, he seemed as energetic as a puppy. 

Marco grinned. "So this is the kid, huh?"

"This is the kid," Ace affirmed.

The blonde sauntered over to the other side of the bed, settling in the same chair Smoker had occupied just minutes before. “Hello, Luffy,” Marco began.

The teen glanced towards him, eyes shining with _—strangely enough—_ recognition. 

“I’m Marco. I’m a… good friend and colleague of Ace, yoi.” The whole _‘gang’_ conversation could come later. 

Luffy nodded, humming an affirmative. "Hi, Marco. Nice to meet you." They shook hands amicably.

“Thanks for saving that idiot over there," Marco continued. Ace huffed, calling out a _hey_ in his direction. "He's like a little brother to me. You've done a lot more for me than you think.” 

The teen kept his knowing smile. “It’s no biggie,” Luffy stated, as though he hadn’t just gotten _shot._ “It’s just my shoulder. Ace’s life is more important.” Marco laughed, outright. Ace couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping.

The blonde continued, grinning now. “And how you handled those two cops? Perfect. If any others come your way, lie right through your teeth, yoi.” Marco gave him a solid thumbs up, like the bad influence he was. 

Luffy flushed red. “I’m a terrible liar,” he admitted, bashfully. “Sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about, yoi. They can’t pressure you on anything." Marco reached into his back pocket, rummaging for something. "Say, you got a phone?” 

Luffy nodded.

The two exchanged numbers, with Marco offering to treat the teen whenever he felt hungry. The boy shined like a star at the words. “I love eating…” He murmured, emotionally.

“Well, that’s good then,” the blonde grinned. “If you call me out, it’ll be my treat, yoi.” There was another pause, and Marco became serious. “Luffy— if there’s ever an emergency, give me a call. Especially if it involves you or Ace.” Luffy seemed to note the change in the air, and the teen nodded dutifully in response. 

“I promise I will.” 

“Great. Ace, you wanna talk to him alone?” 

“Yeah. I just need a moment.” 

Marco nodded. “I’ll see you in a few, yoi.”

* * *

The two found themselves alone. Ace walked around, sitting down and facing the teen. He reached out his hand. “Let’s start from the beginning. My name’s Ace.” 

Luffy was happy to play along. He grabbed the proffered hand and shook. “Hi! I’m Luffy.” 

Ace let go with a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Luffy.”

He paused, thinking of the long discussion he’d had with Whitebeard, and the subsequent decisions he’d made with Marco. After a few hours of thought and discourse, Ace had seen this to be one of the few viable options.

“First of all, I’d like to start with an apology.” Ace tucked his head down, a subtle bow. “I was in some real trouble, because… Well, there’s an asshole out there who knows all my weaknesses. Either way, I didn't mean for anyone to get caught in my crossfire.” 

He glanced up, disrupted by the severity of Luffy’s gaze. Ace coughed, and continued.

“Anyway, I want to talk about something. If you don't mind me troubling you again, of course."

"I don't," Luffy replied, simply.

"Okay, well. Luffy, do you live around here? Go to school nearby?” 

The teen nodded. “Yeah! I go to that one public school by the church. New Age high?” 

Ace blanched. _Oh, god. New Age..._ "I dropped out of there when I was… 15 or something,” he muttered. As a final fuck-you to the school, he had spray-painted a dark, black _S_ over the ‘N’ in New Age. He told Luffy the story, garnering a hysterical giggle out of the teen. “I’ve heard about that! Some older guys still talk about it. I didn’t know it was you, though.”

Ace grinned. “Well, it wasn’t the last time I caused anyone trouble.” 

_Speaking of._

The commander decided to take the blunt approach. “Luffy, I’ll be honest with you, because we’re not really in the best position right now... I’m in a gang.” 

Silence. 

Luffy nodded. His reaction, frankly, was a little underwhelming. 

“Uh-,” Ace continued, mildly deterred. “-It’s called the Whitebeards.” _You know, the biggest gang on this side of town._

“Okay,” the teen replied. 

“You know about the Whitebeards?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay. I’m the second ranked commander for them. The _Whitebeards.”_

“Cool!” 

Ace paused. He pursed his lips. “...You know what that means, right?” 

Luffy scratched his chin. “Kinda. You’re in charge of territory, yeah?” 

The man furrowed his brows, staring at the teen like he was an inexplicable specimen. He couldn't for the life of him understand how Luffy seemed more anxious around two cops than a big-shot gang member. 

“...Yes. I am," he relented, returning Luffy's blank stare. “A-anyway… The title comes with some trouble. The man you fought last night is a personal enemy of mine, and if he finds out we’re both alive, he might come back for you.” Teach could be both patient and thorough, and this was a fact that Ace had seen. "I don't think he's the type to let even some teenager slip by, and I don't know what his future plans are. You understand?"

The commander watched Luffy carefully as he spoke, reading for any signs of fear or trepidation. There were none.

"Yeah, I get it."

Ace continued. “You live with your family, yeah?” 

The teen shook his head. “I live by myself,” he answered. “My gramps comes back once every… 6 months, or something.”

“Great, that’s-,That’s perfect, actually. I don’t like the idea of leaving you for dead, especially because this guy’s my problem, but—” He paused a bit, gathering his thoughts.

“Luffy, it’s, uh, probably not a good idea for you to go back to school, or home, for a while. You might end up endangering your friends, or your grandpa. Is he going to visit you any time soon?” 

Luffy shook his head. “He visited last month.” 

Ace sighed. “Good, then…” He buckled down, getting ready for the proposal. 

“Would you move in with me, for a while? Whitebeard's hooking me up with a new apartment."

"Okay!"

"Because he wants to cover my tracks until we've figured out Te— Wait, did you just agree?"

“Yeah," the teen replied, with an easy grin. "I don’t mind."

Though it still caught him off guard to hear it, Ace somehow knew that would be the response. 

“... Are you _sure?_ I mean, do you even understand _why_ you would have to mov—”

Luffy shrugged, as best as he could with one arm. "If I don't, those two guys will come back for me and ask about you, right? And they might get rid of me, too?"

Ace paused, brows raised.

"Yeah," he answered, blankly. "You might get cornered, or killed. And I don't want that to happen to someone who saved my life."

Luffy smiled, then. “I really don’t mind,” he affirmed. 

“... Okay," Ace uttered, “That’s. That was easier than I thought. I mean, I don’t feel so bad now that I know you don’t have anyone at home.” Rather lonely, for a teen to be living by himself.

“Can I see my friends sometimes?” Luffy asked.

The man paused. “... I’ll get back to you on it.” 

It was the first time Ace saw a pout from the teen directed at him.

* * *

After about a week and a half in the hospital, Luffy was cleared for discharge. 

Ace picked him up, posing as a close family friend, and they reviewed all the details together. Luffy was banned from strenuous activity, and there was a list of physical therapy exercises that he was recommended to partake in. 

His wound would take a few months to fully heal, though he would slowly be able to integrate his left arm back into his life within that time frame. Luffy was lucky enough that the bullet had caught itself in his tendons, with small fractures to the bone. His first month would be spent in an arm-sling, but the rest would (hopefully) be smooth healing. 

Ace offered to look after him throughout the process, figuring that they’d need to lay low regardless. While the teen seemed bummed out by his injuries’ constraints, he was fairly happy to hear that Ace would help him through the matter. 

That was another question the commander wanted to ask, though he had no clue how to phrase it. _Why are you so comfortable with me?_ seemed like a good starter.

Unsure of the topic, Ace pressed it to the back of his mind. He had other things to worry about, like the fact that the whole operation rang up a 30,000 dollar bill.

“I… I don’t have health insurance,” Luffy murmured, weakly.

“...Well, shit.”

* * *

“Pops, I need 30,000 dollars.” 

Whitebeard raised a brow, perched in a comfortable chair. “You need what, now?”

Ace bowed low, though his old man insisted that such a formality was unnecessary. They were in Newgate’s home, where commanders handled most private issues or had general talks. “It’s for the kid’s surgery. You know, Luffy’s. I can pay you back 10,000$ upfront, and I’ll make sure to g—”

Whitebeard chuckled, interrupting the younger man. “Don’t be stupid, son. You don’t have to pay me anything. What’s mine is yours.”

Ace kneeled, then. “I’ve always been your burden, pops. I promise I’ll do better.” 

Whitebeard smiled, beckoning him to rise. “I don’t care what you do, as long as you’re alive. Now, what about the boy?”

The brunette rose to his feet. “He’s here with me today. Do you have time to meet him?” 

The old man laughed again, with that strange tremulous laugh he’d always had. He waved a hand to the open doorway, an eager invitation. “I said I wanted to, didn’t I? Surely I can make time to meet the man who saved my son. Come on, bring this kid in.” 

Ace smiled in response. He ventured out into the hall to bring over Luffy.

A few moments later, the teen arrived, escorted by the commander. He looked around, absorbing all the old collectibles on the walls. Whitebeard was a surprisingly sentimental man, who had trouble throwing things away. His heart showed itself all over his home, from old pictures to antique gifts. Finally, Luffy’s gaze landed on Newgate’s. 

There was a shimmer in the old man’s eyes. “Hello, Luffy.” 

The teen grinned. “Yo!” 

Ace smacked Luffy’s (good) arm. “That’s my pops, kid. You better treat him with respect,” he hissed, quietly.

“What,” Luffy hissed back. “I just said ‘yo’...”

“Oh, stop it. I don’t mind when a fool acts like a fool. He’s just being honest.” Newgate smiled, eyes crinkling. Luffy didn’t rise to the insult, seemingly more amused than anything.

“Come here, kid.” The old man raised a hand, beckoning him over. 

Luffy shuffled up, coming to a stop in front of him. Whitebeard raised himself from the chair, towering over the teen as he stood straight. He leaned down, and wrapped Luffy in a one-armed embrace, careful not to jostle the sling. “Thank you, Luffy.” 

The teen grinned, though it was hidden against the old man’s broad chest. He returned the hug as best as he could, and replied, “No problem!” 

Whitebeard settled back down. “Two months ago, a traitor took one of my sons from me,” he began. “Two weeks ago, he could have taken another. The debt I owe you is deeper than money.”

Ace sucked in a breath, eyes cast towards the ground. 

“Luffy," Newgate began, with a gravelly certainty. "I can promise that for as long as my name lives, you’ll find safety in this community. Don’t ever hesitate to ask me for something, okay?" Luffy nodded in silence. "Okay. Now, I won’t invite you to join us, but you’re already a son to me, regardless." He patted the teen's shoulder. "I hope you understand that.” 

“You won’t?” Ace asked, surprised. “I thought it was worth a shot…” 

Whitebeard smirked, pointing at the young teen’s cheery face. “Look at this kid, you think he’s the type to follow my orders? I can tell he’s a little shit.”

The commander glanced at the younger teen, raising a brow. Luffy simply laughed. “Yeah, I’m not gonna join. Thanks for the thought, old man.”

 _“Old man?”_ Ace hissed, scandalized. Whitebeard erupted in laughter. 

* * *

The new apartment was simplistic. It was located on the second floor, and it had a balcony that overlooked the building’s parking lot. Ideal for observing the street, and allowing for quick get-aways. 

Ace had protested the move at first, arguing that this was too much precaution for a single man. "No need to run and hide," he'd said.

Nevertheless, Whitebeard insisted. Ace knew better than to argue. 

Privately, he was relieved. It was easier this way to take Luffy in and watch over his healing process personally. This was a task Ace genuinely wanted to take on, out of some level of guilt more than anything else. 

(Also, when he asked Luffy how the teen would have handled the injury alone, Luffy had merely shrugged and said something like "I'd figure it out." Ace knew now that the teen lived by himself, which led him to believe that there would have been no one to assist him.) 

The older man jingled the keys into the front door, entering the new apartment for the first time. Luffy followed in, wandering behind him. 

Ace glanced back at the entryway, seeing not one but two extra locks. He raised a brow, but locked the door accordingly. The man kicked off his shoes, wandering in and observing the layout. 

There was a short hallway serving as the entrance, that opened into a wide living room. To the right of the living room was a modest kitchen, and past that was another hall, (presumably) leading to a bedroom and a bathroom. The living room was quaintly furnished like everything else in the place, and it opened to the aforementioned balcony. 

Privately, Ace calculated the cost of a space like this; he’d at least asked for a one-bedroom, because anything else would be too expensive. Even so, this didn’t seem economical. 

The commander pursed his lips, setting down a luggage bag full of clothes. It was all he’d brought to the place, as he’d had no intention of making it feel lived-in. "Luffy?" He called. "What are you doing in the kitchen?"

Luffy was ambling about, having just barely remembered to take off his sandals. His feet guided him in the direction of the fridge, and he squealed in delight when he saw that Marco had left him a bag of take-out. The first commander had checked the apartment building himself, out of curiosity more than anything. He’d left a jar of Ace’s favorite hot sauce, as well. "There's food here! Let's eat, I'm hungry." 

"We ate an hour ago," Ace replied. He rounded up to the kitchen, glancing around. "Besides, we don't even have utensils here. Or dish soap. Or anything." He made a mental note to stop by the local supermarket later that day. 

"But it's steak," Luffy cried. He'd made Marco very aware of his favorite meals, snacks, and drinks. Luffy was milking the man's generosity, frankly.

"Exactly. It's steak."

The teen cracked open the cover of the take-out box. Ace panicked, wondering if Luffy was the type to eat a cold steak with his bare hand. "Don't just eat the steak, Luffy. Holy _shit."_

"What else am I supposed to do?" 

"You need a fork and a steak knife. And since you need a knife, you also need a durable plate. And, you know, two able hands, to work those utensils." Ace pursed his lips, frowning in disapproval. "And the steak is _cold,_ dude. At least throw it in the microwave." What Luffy really needed was a lesson in common sense and manners.

"..." The teen stared at the take-out box. "That's a lotta work." 

"... I'm not going to help you carve up the steak until we have everything else we need to comfortably eat." 

"I don't need your help with that," Luffy stated, brows furrowing. 

Ace laughed, uttering a single breath. "Luffy, didn't you hear the doctor? You're basically going to need my help with…" anything that involved the usage of two hands, which was, "...pretty much everything. I don't know _how_ you were brazen enough to disable yourself, when you weren't going to have anyone at home to help you."

Or health insurance, for that matter. What was Luffy's grandfather _thinking?_

The teen shrugged. "I can… Deal with it," he answered, hesitant. 

Ace raised a brow. 

He'd gotten an injury before, one that had left his arm in a cast. The first month had been emotionally debilitating for Ace, as he'd needed his friends to accommodate to his every whim; Thatch had been the one to drive him on a daily basis since he wasn't able to operate a car alone. 

The memories stung him, but Ace simply smiled at the thought of it.

"You'll see, Luffy. You'll see when you try to shower. Or change your clothes. Or eat a steak." 

"It's not _that_ hard…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> without realizing it, ace is channeling his big brother vibes（*´▽｀*）
> 
> also, idk how I managed to incorporate a roommates plotline but... im happy... sorry if this chapter got long (°ー°〃)


	3. The Mourning After-Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy meets the other commanders, and they're just as rowdy as one would expect.

Jozu had sent Ace a text, at the end of the week. 

_“Yo u wanna come to the mourning after-party??”_

Ace stared at the text in perplexion. Luffy sat next to him, watching a random sit-com while splayed out on the couch. The teen glanced down as his phone buzzed, catching the only word that he cared for— “Party?” 

“Shh,” Ace hushed. “I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about.” What did _mourning_ mean, in all of this? 

Ace replied. _"what the fks a mourning after-party”_

Jozu texted back almost instantly. 

_“We r grieving the tragic loss of a luvd one...”_

“What the fuck,” Ace whispered. “Is he talking about _Thatch?_ Or one of his dogs?” Luffy peeked back at the phone screen, brow raising. 

Jozu sent a photo. It took a moment to load, but when it did, Ace almost choked on his own spit. 

He’d taken a selfie in front of Ace’s _grave._ It was him and a few other commanders, including Marco, Izo, Vista, and others who were too blurry to make out. The grave was strewn with hundreds of flowers and an alarming amount of liquor bottles. 

“Oh my god,” Ace muttered, disbelieving. Whitebeard had said he’d had a solution to cover up the man’s disappearance, but this was unthinkable.

 _“so tragic!!!”_ came another ping, from the commander’s messages. He realized then that Jozu, and most likely everyone else, was trashed. _“so much loss!!”_

The grave marker itself was a large slab of marble, glossed and elegantly carved: _Here Lies… Portgas D. Ace. A fighter to the very end._ Ace squinted, glancing at the finer script. _The devil’s got a shot for you in hell._ That got a chuckle out of him. 

“What’s this?” Luffy asked, perking up again. The teen propped his chin on the older man’s shoulder. His eye’s bulged. “Is that—Is that your _GRAVE?”_

Ace didn’t have time to answer, because the next attachment sent to him was a video. 

He pressed play, watching as Jozu stumbled up to his burial. “Marco,” Jozu spluttered, gripping a bottle. “Hold my phone, we’re gonna send him this.” Ace heard Marco’s responding guffaws, and the phone camera scrambled, messily changing hands. 

“Ace!!” Jozu yelled. The other commanders cheered, loudly. “Portgas… D… Ace…!!” Another cheer, more thunderous than before. “You little shit! Fucking _dying_ on us at… How old is he?” 

“20!!” Izo screamed, from the side. His made-up face was comically tear-streaked. 

**_“20!!”_ **Jozu screamed back. Luffy exploded in laughter. 

“You were…” Jozu turned around, squinting at the tombstone. “A fighter till— _A fighter to the very end!!”_ Another roar from the small crowd. The commander laughed horrendously. “Ace, it says here the fuckin’ devil’s got a shot for you... But!!” The gigantic man paused. He displayed the bottle in his hand, pointing it proudly towards the phone. “So do I!” Another erupting scream, and the commanders chanted “Chug! Chug! Chug!” in the direction of the freshly dug dirt. 

Jozu upturned the bottle, and a whole 1.75 liter’s worth of Fireball Whiskey (Ace’s favorite) sloshed itself into the burial ground. “Come on, get him some more! He’s a thirsty bastard for a dead guy, hahaha...”

“That was not a fucking shot,” Ace muttered, under his breath. He was grinning uncontrollably at the screen. 

The commanders took turns pouring some type of liquor after another, emptying them into the grave until the dirt resembled dark, murky sludge. It probably smelled like the bathroom floor of a pub, but with funeral flowers. 

“I would like to make another announcement,” Jozu stated, slurring his words. 

“We’re going to have an after-party, and Ace’s ghost is invited.” 

Cheers exploded at the words. The man pointed at the phone screen. “Ace!! If you can still hear us, you’re invited!! I don’t know how loud hell is, so I’m yelling!!” The phone shook, Marco’s chortles bursting into the receiver. The video ended there. 

“Oh my fucking god,” the brunette murmured, in utter disarray. “I can’t believe I associate with these idiots.” 

Luffy scrambled for the phone, eagerly tugging it out of Ace’s hand. The older brunette let him have it, watching over the teen’s mussy head. With some level of struggle, Luffy managed to send Jozu a text. The teen was grinning from ear to ear.

_“its lufy”_

_“Luffy!!!!”_ Was Jozu’s response.

The teen buckled down, writing a longer text. Hard work, when you only had one available hand. 

_“am i invited 2 th party?”_

A pause. Luffy watched the screen, smiling all the while. Ace huffed.

Finally, a new message pinged. It was another video. The teen pressed play, tilting the screen so Ace could see. 

“Guys,” Jozu said, filming the commanders. “Luffy asked if he was invited to the after-party.” 

A flurry of yells erupted instantly, and Marco leaned into the camera and declared, “I’ll buy you steak, Luffy!!” -And the video, much more abrupt than the last one, stopped there. 

The teen dissolved into laughter. “I like them, Ace!”

* * *

It turned out, Luffy would have been invited to the party regardless, because it was taking place in his and Ace’s shared apartment. As it so happened, a knock resounded on the apartment door.

Ace scrambled up to answer, but Luffy got there faster. He swung the door open. 

“Marco!” The teen yelled, ecstatic. “Meat?” 

The blonde raised a rustling plastic bag. “Your favorite.” He pushed the heavy bag (there were at least 4 slabs of steak in there) into the teen’s free hand, making his way into the apartment. A few other commanders wandered in, ogling the boy at the door. 

“This is the boy?” Izo whispered. 

Vista nodded gravely. “This is the boy, the one who protected Ace’s dead body till the end. He’s the only reason we could recover it.” 

“I’m right fucking here, guys,” Ace called, from down the hall. Marco cackled, more than a little drunk at this point. 

“Holy shit, _guys,”_ Jozu announced. He sauntered in, tossing his shoes into a corner. “I can hear it… I can hear Ace’s voice… His ghost is here!” Ace kicked him in the shin. “Ow! He’s a fucking _poltergeist!_ Somebody get the holy water.”

Marco rummaged in the fridge, pulling out some beers that Ace had. “Heineken?” He muttered, with a judgmental voice. 

“Take it or leave it,” Ace snapped back. 

All the commanders settled down in the living room, though Vista drunkenly explained that some others would come in slow droves—they were still paranoid about making too obvious of a scene, lest it give away Ace’s location. 

Marco plopped down a six-pack, joining the others at the table. He brought back a plate with a fork and knife for Luffy. 

“Meat!” Luffy exclaimed, again. The teen managed to open the bag with one hand, plopping down a large steak on his empty plate. He paused, then, and ogled Ace expectantly. 

The other commanders quieted, noticing a silent exchange. Ace’s cheeks heated up. Luffy’s eyes seemed to get rounder and rounder, and he leaned in towards the older man. _“Aaace,”_ he whined. _“Meaaat.”_

“... Fine.”

The man sighed, reluctantly gathering the fork and knife. He began carving up the steak, pride diminishing under the sudden swarm of loud coos he was receiving from his peers. When Ace finally hand-fed Luffy a piece, the commanders nearly _shrieked_ their commentary. Jozu had his phone out, focusing on the action like he was filming a documentary. 

“This is so fucking cute,” Izo declared, loudly. He generally acted calm and well-mannered when he was sober, but anyone could change with enough Hennessy. “Isn’t this fucking cute? Look, Jozu.” He posed next to Luffy’s happily munching face. Ace sighed.

“Get out of the frame, Izo! God, you’re ugly.” 

“Am not,” the man snapped. “And I don’t wanna hear it from you, fatass.” 

“It’s muscle!” Jozu cried. “And you’re fucking hideous, your mascara is leaking all over your cheeks from the funeral.” 

“Well, it was a god damned _funeral,_ Jozu,” Izo snarked. “I wasn’t gonna fucking smile.” The commanders shared another round of raucous laughter, at Ace’s expense. “Hey Luffy,” the mascara-stained man asked. “You like to drink?” 

“Nogh wlwy,” Luffy answered, stuffing his face. Ace rolled his eyes, but he didn’t stop the mechanical motion of stab-meat-and-lift-hand, in the teen’s direction. “I think he meant ‘not reall—”

“There was no possible answer to that question other than yes,” Vista cut in. He had a wise smile, as though he’d said something profound. 

“He _said_ not reall—”

“Oh, don’t try to protect him, Ace. I know you can’t stop your lovey-dovey urges, but it doesn’t suit you.” Izo batted his lashes at the young man. 

“My fucking _what,_ now—”

“Here Luffy, have some water,” Jozu brandished a glass off the coffee table, liquid sloshing dangerously from his rather unsteady hand. The teen mumbled a thank you, and drank it trustingly. Luffy almost choked.

“Just kidding,” Jozu grinned. “That was vodka.” As if any of the bottles he’d brought would actually contain water. 

_“Jozu!”_ Ace snapped.

“Oh, come on, Ace,” Marco rolled his eyes. “You started drinking at like, ten or something? Let the kid live a little.” 

“I started drinking at ten because I was a shithead. Luffy’s a _good_ ki—”

The teen in question adopted a surprising look of determination. “Alright, alright. I ate some meat. Let me drink.”

Izo scrambled for a shot glass.

* * *

Two hours later, the apartment hosted a handful more people, and an even rowdier crowd. A majority of them surrounded Luffy, pestering him with all sorts of incessant (in Ace’s opinion) questions. The older man was hovering next to the teen like a protective mother hen. 

“Luffy, Luffy, does Ace help you get dressed every morning?” 

“Why would you ask him a stupid question like th—”

“Yeah, he does, cause it’s hard to put on my pants without tripping,” Luffy answered. To Ace's disbelief and horror, the teen was _utterly shameless._ “He gets worried that I’ll fall and hurt myself.”

A round of _“AWWWWW”s_ echoed in the living room, leaving Ace with flaming red cheeks. Another curious face leaned in. At this point, Luffy knew he was going to have trouble remembering all these names. 

“Luffy, how do you feel about Ace? He was bitching the other day that you’re so damned affectionate, do you like him?” 

Ace flushed, remembering his confused mini-rant. He’d mentioned it mostly to Marco and Izo, considering the fact that they were (when sober) calm and calculated enough to assess an unconventional situation. It helped a great deal to hear outsider advice, but he’d never meant for it to reach Luffy’s ears. 

“Do I like him?” The teen repeated, eyes wide. 

Ace stood still, just barely glancing over at his neutral expression. 

Luffy paused, and smiled honestly. “I don’t like him, stupid. I love him.”

And with that bomb dropped, he said nothing more. 

The older brunette felt like he was going to go into cardiac arrest. The commanders yelled various loud phrases ( _That’s gaaay!_ From Jozu, and _So adorable!_ From Izo), and Marco simply grinned, too drunk and tired to speak coherently on the matter.

Some other commander, either Rakuyo or Fossa, Luffy couldn’t remember, pressured Ace to kiss the confessing teen. At the suggestion, several others joined in on a chant, yelling _“Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!”_

Luffy merely ogled the man with an innocent expression.

Ace stared back, face utterly red. “You can’t _ask_ me to kiss him! What the fuck, leave us alone!” 

The teen grinned, chuckling at the commander’s flustered expression.

“Don’t be such a killjoy, Ace. It’s all for fun.” He leaned up and kissed the man on the cheek. The room filled with cheers, though someone screamed, “Luffy! You missed the mark by an inch, try again!” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ace snapped, in embarrassment. He leaned down, planting a peck on Luffy’s forehead in return. Even that innocent gesture took too much out of him. “There, I kissed him too. Fuck off, all of you.” He reached for a bottle, now determined to get sloshed. Ace wasn't pleased by the lack of hesitation on his own end. 

“Jesus, Ace, were you even _trying_ to hit the mark? Fucking atrocious aim…” 

“Yeah, Luffy’s ass is about two and a half feet down, give or take—”

The crowd burst into another round of laughter. The rest of the night was filled with enough shitty jokes that Ace drank for the sheer principle of forgetting.

* * *

The next morning arrived, though Ace was reluctant to meet it. 

He sat up on the couch, glancing up blearily to check at the time. 

11:30 in the morning, meaning that he’d slept in a great deal longer than he had expected. Ace nearly slid off, feet gingerly touching the floor and meeting skin instead. He felt the body jostle under him, and heard a soft chuckle from—undoubtedly—Luffy. 

He looked over the edge and saw the teen sleeping in peace. 

Ace’s foot had met his bare stomach, but otherwise he was undisturbed. Maybe even a little cold, if the goosebumps were anything to go by. 

Gingerly, the commander stood up, carrying the teen onto the couch and tucking him in with a blanket. His thoughts lingered on the night before, and Luffy’s clear, certain voice rang into his head:

_“I don’t like him, stupid. I love him.”_

Ace prickled at the memory. Something in him felt rubbed raw. Exposed to the winds. 

Another memory flickered in, from the week before. This time it was the daunting, raspy voice of captain Smoker, accusing Luffy of having a dreadful sense of honesty. He wondered briefly if the teen would have repeated the same things last night if he’d drank water instead of alcohol. 

The thought made him scoff. Alcohol never made you a better liar, only a more horrendously bad one. In Luffy’s case, it didn’t matter what he drank. 

To think that Luffy was completely earnest was terrifying, because in Ace’s heart of hearts, he welcomed the teen’s emotions. He welcomed them, accepting that Luffy had a slot in his life that he didn’t think was available. More importantly, it was as though he’d merely been waiting for someone like Luffy to fill that slot. 

Ace got up, going through the motions of cooking breakfast. It was then that he'd seen his own developing madness with a clear mind. Having bought groceries for two, setting the table for two, and cooking a portion worthy of _five,_ Ace realized that he somehow knew exactly how much Luffy planned to eat, despite having only cooked for maybe 3 out of the 7 mornings he’d spent with the teen. If he lingered further on the thought, plenty more moments would emerge where his lived-in comfort with the teen showed itself. 

The thought disturbed him deeply. 

Izo had pointed out, at some point in the night, that Luffy was not the only one who was too comfortable around Ace. At 2 AM, after having watched the two for upwards 5 hours, he’d said, _“You’re more relaxed with Luffy than you are with anyone else.”_ It was a hollowing statement, considering Izo had known him for over 5 years. 

Ace had tried to argue the bullet-wound route; _“He saved my life, he took a shot for me,”_

Izo replied, _“Don’t kid yourself. You’d drop everything to take care of him, regardless. Look, he’s crying right now, why don’t you do something about it?”_

Ace’s head whipped dangerously fast, and he’d sputtered a **_“What?”_ ** before realizing that Luffy was still laughing and smiling like an idiot, surrounded by a bunch of happy-go-lucky commanders. 

_“Got ‘im,”_ Izo smirked. 

“—Ace?” 

The man glanced up, returning from his train of thoughts. He saw Luffy standing out in front of the kitchen, peering in like a hungry dog first thing in the morning. The teen’s eyes traveled towards the bacon, and his stomach growled almost instantaneously. 

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Ace smiled. Then when he realized he was smiling, he stopped doing that. 

Luffy nodded, settling back on the couch. 

“Why’d you fall asleep on the floor?” Ace called out, flipping the pan. 

“Don’t like sleepin’ alone.”

“Oh.” 

Silence. 

The commander swallowed thickly, feeling tension rise in his chest. Trepidation, even. He gathered the bacon and scrambled eggs together, plopping piles of each onto wide plates and balancing them delicately on his arms. Most would flinch from the heat, but that never bothered him. 

Ace brought the plates over to the living room, placing them on the coffee table. Luffy glanced down and hummed happily, letting the older man serve a healthy portion on his plate. 

After he was finished serving, Ace sat down, letting the teen eat loudly while he spent some time in quietude. He’d almost lost the nerve to speak, until Luffy glanced back at him questioningly. “Ace? What's up?” 

The brunette returned the stare. 

“...Luffy,” He began. 

The teen swallowed down some of his scrambled eggs, waiting for the man to continue. “Do you—this is a stupid question—…” 

“What?” 

“Do you actually love me?” Ace blurted. He knew that Luffy couldn’t lie, but the words somehow meant more to him when they weren’t spoken after ten shots. 

The teen hummed contemplatively, picking at a piece of bacon and chewing it like tobacco. He seemed rather tranquil about the matter. “I answered this question already, didn’t I?”

“So—So you remember,” the man stated, just to be sure. A bizarre sense of relief washed him, as though it would have hurt if the teen had admitted it but forgot the next day. 

_“You’re_ the one who forgot,” Luffy replied. He glanced at the man with such an empty expression that it seemed frightening. “You’ve forgotten everything, haven’t you?” 

Ace was taken aback. “...No, I remember just about everything that happened last night, actually.” 

The moment was broken. Luffy laughed, outright. “Okay, Ace.”

“...What, did something else happen?” The commander felt a prickle of fear. He wasn’t sure what went on right before he fell asleep, because those kinds of details were hard enough to remember on a sober night as it was. 

"You passed out while eating some of my food. Then somebody drew dicks on your face with Izo's eyeliner, and they took photos of you with whipped cream in your mouth."

Ace shot up from his seat and ran to the bathroom mirror. 

* * *

"Have you heard from him? At all?" Nami asked, desperately. 

Usopp shook his head. "No, I haven't." 

"It must have been a month already," she cried. "I can't get a hold of him. He hasn't been to any of your classes?" 

"Not one. I have no idea what's going on, Nami. Did he say he was going on some sort of trip over the summer? Maybe he's coming back late. Maybe he visited his grandpa and he lost his phone somewhere. Luffy loses things all the time, you know?" 

"Usopp, we're already a week into school. If he doesn't show up, he might just get expelled. We have to do something, Luffy doesn't have family at home to report if he's missing."

The younger teen collapsed near the front of the school. "I don't know what to do," he murmured, weakly. 

"Well, when's the last time you spoke to him? You know I couldn't, I was doing the summer program in Italy." Nami had gone for an intensive architecture program, as she was intending to apply to art colleges this year. She'd barely had time to glance at her phone. 

"Oh, how'd that go? Was it nice?" Usopp casually asked. 

"Oh my god, it was beautiful, I wish I could live in Ita— Why are you dodging the question?" 

Usopp wailed. "Okay, okay! I texted him two weeks ago, because I finally finished that PC I was building! I was really proud of it but then he didn't respond so I got kind of mad at him." 

Nami was struck dumb by the response. She slid down until she was squatting next to him. "Usopp, you idiot." She groaned into her hands. "You complete idiot. I can't believe you ignored him over such a petty reason." 

"It's not _petty._ I worked on it for the last 4 months straight. It's my masterpiece, Nami. It's got three times the speed of a regular gaming PC. You don't even know how crazy the specs are—"

"Forget it, whatever. We have to go to an adult about this." 

"About what?" 

The two teens glanced up. The speaker was professor Nico, one of the most intelligent adults they knew. She seemed to have finished the school day, leaving slightly later than most other professors.

"Professor Nico!" Nami exhaled. She stood up instantly, dragging Usopp by the arm. "Oh my goodness, what good timing. We need your advice." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back!!!! after so long!! i missed everyone. ╥﹏╥ sry guys... 
> 
> i like the idea of the whitebeard pirates doing extreme things all the time! so a fake funeral sounded very fun, though it's surprising that luffy didn't get triggered... must have been because ace was right next to him (⺣◡⺣)♡* i think we r getting to the point where luffy is bein affectionate cause he just is, and ace is taking everything the wrong way lol
> 
> and a lot of ppl asked about luffy's friends! of course i didn't forget, tho i made sure to write a similar separation like the sabaody arc (・∀・) cant make everything too easy lol. will work on writing faster!


	4. Headlines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nami, Usopp, and Robin get to work. Life alternates between peace and turmoil.

“Captain, have you heard?” Tashigi asked, shoving her way into Smoker’s office. “Word has gotten around, over the last 24 hours.” 

Smoker had his head tucked over the desk, as if he were trying to sleep. “What,” he mumbled, into the desk. “I’m tired, lieutenant. Leave me alone.”

Tashigi pursed her lips. She shut the office door, placing a single photo in front of the man. “Captain. Portgas D. Ace is dead.”

Smoker’s head shot up, the force nearly whooshing the photo right to the floor. He grabbed it quickly, staring at the picture of Ace’s supposed grave. “Dead? No fucking way. Who killed h—”

He squinted, looking closely at the death date. “That’s a few weeks ago,” he muttered. The captain glanced back at Tashigi, and he knew in that instance that her brain was whirring in the same exact direction as his. 

“That’s the same timeframe as that boy. The one who got shot. That’s not a coincidence.” Smoker put a hand to his head, feeling a migraine coming. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

Tashigi nodded. “Luffy _did_ get injured in Whitebeard’s territory,” she stated, quietly. “I know it’s improbable, but I didn’t think it was a coincidence either. So I went and took this picture.” 

The captain looked at her with grim determination. “You did good, Tashigi.” 

She beamed a smile at him. “Thank you, sir.”

* * *

“So you believe your friend Luffy is missing,” Nico stated, after sitting through a twenty minute explanation. 

“Yes. Well, we don’t know. He’s really stupid and unpredictable sometimes, so this issue could be anything, but…” Nami pursed her lips. “Luffy is like a beacon of attention. He can’t go this long without talking to any of his friends. It’s just not like him, professor.”

“I see. I’ve had him in a class before, and I do believe this is rather strange behavior. He doesn’t have immediate family, yes?” 

Nami and Usopp shook their heads. “He has a grandpa but I’ve only ever seen that guy like, twice,” Usopp explained. “And I’m pretty sure the grandpa is, uh, not really available.”

“Hm. That’s concerning. What about any neighbors? Anyone out of school he could have talked to?”

Nami sat up in her chair, suddenly. “Yes! There’s— actually, there’s two people I can think of. He has a neighbor that he’s good friends with, and then there’s this guy who works at a restaurant, and Luffy mooches off of him for food all the time. If anyone sees Luffy on a daily basis, it _has_ to be these two.”

Nico smiled. “Well, we have leads. If they don’t have any answers, we’ll report to the police.” 

* * *

The first stop was the restaurant, as it was on the way towards Luffy’s apartment complex. 

They walked in, face first with the charming blonde host, Sanji. 

“Welcome to Barat— Nami!” The man swooned, almost instantly. “Oh, and who’s this fine, charming, graceful, beauteous woman you have with you?” He turned, like some sort of femme fatale radar, towards professor Nico. The woman smiled slightly, and Sanji just about died in response. “This is an absolute blessing—”

“Sanji I really do not have time for this right now,” Nami snapped. 

In an instant, he returned to normalcy. “Of course, dear. What’s wrong? Need a table for three?” 

Nico stepped up. “Nothing of the sort. I’m Luffy’s high school professor, Nico Robin.” Sanji nodded, committing the name to memory. “We know he comes here often, and we wondered if you’ve seen him lately?” The teen regularly made his presence known at least twice a week. In exchange for doing dishes, he’d get a free steak dinner. 

The question gave the blonde a pause. He looked around, seeing the fairly empty state of the restaurant. It wasn’t quite dinner time yet. 

“Let’s go outside,” Sanji replied, glancing away. The group of four ushered themselves out the door, and the host pulled out a cigarette, taking a short drag and turning back to the trio. 

“I haven’t heard from him at all. I’ve been a bit worried, honestly.” 

Nami sighed. “You, neither? Not even a text? A call?” 

Sanji furrowed his brow. “I don’t have his number, actually. I see him so often, I don’t really feel the need to call him up.” Why bother, when the teen was probably going to show up one day or another. “But,” Sanji leaned in towards Nami, “If only I had _your_ number. I would have called you about Luffy if I c—” 

“Why not my number?” Usopp asked, from the side.

“Why would I want your number,” Sanji retorted in disgust. Usopp gave him an offended glare. 

Nico cleared her throat. “Alright.” The group looked back towards her. “It seems Luffy has not visited this restaurant in…” She glanced at Sanji. 

“About… About a month, actually.”

“So it’s been a month. We have a guaranteed timeline, but we should still check in with his neighbor just to make sure. Zoro’s his neighbor, right?” Sanji gave an inexplicable cringe at the name. 

Nami sighed, a look of dread on her face. “Yes, him. I hope he has something good to say about Luffy.” 

The blonde frowned, looking at the girl with a gentle expression. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you, Nami. Please, tell me if you have any news on Luffy. I may not look like it, but I do care about him.” 

She glanced back up at him. “I will. Thanks, Sanji.” 

* * *

They went, as a trio, towards Luffy’s apartment. 

The apartment complex was underwhelming, with an old, somewhat homey feeling. Luffy lived on the third floor, and across the hall from his door was his neighbor, Roronoa Zoro. 

Zoro was a man just reaching his 20s, who instructed for a nearby dojo on the weekends. Otherwise, he spent the majority of his time training or putting up with Luffy. 

Nami, Usopp, and Nico reached the third floor, giving a quick knock on Luffy’s door. 

Silence. 

Nami paused, pursing her lips. “It was worth a try.” She turned, knocking on Zoro’s door. 

More silence.

Usopp looked over the girl’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s not home?” 

Nami frowned. “More like he’s napping or something.” She banged the door harder, leaning in. “Zoro! Zoro, are you there?!” 

They heard something collapse onto the floor. “Augh, what the fuck!” Zoro screamed, muffled from the other side. He thudded his way over, various locks clicking until the door was blown wide open. “Who the hell— Oh, Nami. What’s up.” 

“Put on a _shirt,”_ Nami crowed. “Christ.” Nico chuckled in the background, quite entertained. 

Zoro only huffed in response, looking around at the gathering. “Nami, Usopp, and…” He raised a brow. 

“I’m Nico Robin. I’m a professor from Luffy’s high school.” The woman gave a polite incline of her head. “We have some questions for you.”

“Can’t it wait?” Zoro asked, yawning. “You woke me up from my nap, you know.” 

Nami and Usopp shook their heads. “It can’t, Zoro. This is serious.”

The green haired man sighed, scratching at the mop of his bed-head. “Well, spit it out, then. I want to go back to sleep before I do my midnight training.” 

“Your _what,”_ Usopp muttered, under his breath. Nami huffed. “We’ll get to the point, then. Have you seen Luffy in the last month?” She looked at him pleadingly. “Or heard from him, even. Anything at all.”

Zoro paused. 

He gave the trio a calculated stare, and admitted, “No.” 

It seemed that the word caused the group to deflate. Nico frowned, Nami gripped her fists tight, shaking her head, and Usopp dramatically grabbed the sides of his cheeks, muttering some sort of anxious doomsday prophecy under his breath. 

Zoro narrowed his eyes at their responses. “What, is he missing or something?” 

Nami snapped back towards him. “With what you just told us, _yes.”_ She looked away, frustration all over her face. “My god, he’s missing. He’s really missing.” 

* * *

Luffy sneezed, all of a sudden. 

He shivered in place, sniffing slightly. Ace glanced over on the couch. “You have a cold or something?” 

Luffy shrugged. “Nah, I never get sick.” 

The older brunette grinned. “Someone’s talkin’ shit about you, Luffy.”

The teen glanced over. “You think so? I wonder who.” He paused. 

Luffy sat up, all of a sudden. “Wait a second, what day is it?” He glanced around, looking for his burner phone. Ace pulled up the calendar on his own. “September 13th,” he replied. “Why?” 

“Ah!” the teen exclaimed, staring at the date. “School started.” 

Silence. 

Ace broke into a laugh, having ceased to care about school the second he dropped out. “So?” He paused, again, smiling vacantly. And then— “Oh.” 

Luffy stared at the floor, feeling all of a sudden quite guilty. “My friends…” He looked back up, hope budding in his eyes. Ace sighed, quietly. “Do we still have my old phone? The contacts?” 

The older man shook his head. “Sorry, Luffy. It’s trashed, gone.” 

More silence, though it was markedly more awkward this time. 

“Luffy,” Ace began. “You can’t call them. I know you want to, but right now, you can’t.”

The teen nodded his head. 

“It’s not just my life at risk, it’s yours. You’re a key witness to Teach’s attempt, and—” 

“I know,” Luffy cut off. He smiled, slightly. “I know. Don’t worry about me, Ace! I just… don’t remember their numbers.” He puffed his cheeks. “Ah, I forgot my grandpa’s number, too. I hope he doesn’t try to call me…”

“He’s not overbearing, is he?”

“Eh, sort of. He’s fine.” Luffy shifted nervously, continuing no further. 

They sat in more silence. Ace squirmed a little in his place, and eventually he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. There was little else to fill the strange void. 

The local news blared to life, with a headline that made Ace snap up in his seat. “Oh shit,” he said, pointing at the screen. “It’s me!” 

Luffy was at the edge of his own seat, mouth dropped open. 

_“We have breaking news coming in tonight. There are reports that the infamous Whitebeard gangster, Portgas D. Ace, has been declared dead as of last month.”_

Ace laughed, grinning behind his own palm. “Holy shit, Luffy. I’m really dead now!” He cackled, amazed at the screen. 

For whatever reason, the younger teen did not find that as funny, despite his joyous state during the mourning after-party. 

_“We currently have no information on the cause of death, but we have reports from anonymous and trusted sources confirming that he did indeed pass away at the beginning of last month, potentially due to gang violence in his own territory. What this will mean for the Whitebeards, will only be seen in time. As for now, we have a brief statement from the leading director of the FBI’s Violent Gang Task Force, ‘Akainu’ Sakazuki.”_

Luffy’s eyes widened, and his breath came out like a hiss. Ace turned to him, surprised at the change. “Luffy?” 

The screen switched over to some press conference, with the FBI’s logo emblazoned on the background of a podium. Akainu stood towering over the audience, in a simple black and white suit. 

_“Director Sakazuki, do you have anything to say about Portgas D. Ace’s alleged death? Does the FBI know anything that the public doesn’t, already?”_

Akainu stared at the reporter with irritation. _“If you can’t differentiate an appropriate question from an inappropriate one, resign,”_ he retorted. The audience flooded him with more lines of topics, though other reporters heeded his advice. The director ignored them all, returning to the original question. 

Akainu stared directly into the camera, eyes trained in the center. Despite the lack of a hat or any other obstruction, those eyes seemed thickly encased in shadows. He looked like a demon. 

_“As for Ace’s alleged death, it is not alleged. It is confirmed.”_

He paused. Then: _“Good riddance.”_

Luffy gritted his teeth, jaw jutting slightly from the pressure. 

_“Ace will not be the last to die. That is the nature of gang-warfare. It is unforgiving, and so am I.”_

Akainu turned to leave, dismissing all other reporters on the scene. The television whirred back to the local news reporter. She took a beat of silence, smiling an awkward smile. _“...Chilling. Anyway! We pursued the local police precinct’s Captain Smoker, of the Homicide Division, though he had less to say on the matter.”_

The screen switched again, cutting to Smoker on the side of the precinct’s building, puffing through a cigar. _“Fuck off,”_ he said, walking away from the camera. Lieutenant Tashigi popped up from the side, apologizing profusely and taking off after him. Ace got a good chuckle out of it. 

_“Typical Captain Smoker,”_ the reporter stated, returning to the main screen. _“As crude as he is on camera, homicide rates have gone down 30% since his promotion to captain, bringing Ace’s murder closer to an exception rather than a standard in this time and age. These new developments are expected to affect the political elections in the city, from smaller councils to the governo—”_

Ace turned the TV off, muttering ‘boring’ under his breath. He glanced over at Luffy, only to find the teen staring dead-eyed into the television, as though he was still watching it. “...Luffy, are you good?”

The teen blinked, looking back towards him. “Yeah,” he answered.

Ace cocked his head, catching the teen in his blatant lie. He decided not to press the issue any further. “You look tired, Luffy. Probably from all that partying last night…” The man eased up off the sofa. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“Okay,” Luffy answered. He paused, then, watching Ace walk over to the bedroom door down the hall. “...Together?” 

Ace stopped in the hall, cheeks tinting. He usually slept on the couch, but that was then and this is now. “Yes. Together. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Why together?” 

_Oh, my god,_ Ace thought to himself. “I need to keep an eye on you,” he muttered, under his breath. Luffy’s blank stare upon Akainu’s face flashed in his mind, further cementing the older man's decision. 

“What?”

The man sighed, turning around. “You don’t like sleeping alone, right? Come on, you crybaby.”

For a split second, Luffy looked strangely overjoyed at being called a ‘crybaby’, of all things. Ace scoffed, watching the teen break out into a grin. “I don’t get you,” he said, shaking his head slightly. He watched the younger brunette plow his way through the hall, hopping into the bed, only glancing back to search eagerly for Ace. 

“Let’s sleep together, Ace!” 

“Do _not_ mention this to anyone. Not a _soul,_ Luffy.” 

* * *

The sun shone, bright upon Ace’s back. He opened his eyes, looking at the lush scenery surrounding him. Birds chirped overhead, fluttering across the vines. 

Ace recognized this area to be a forest; vast and spacious, with deep stretches of dirt roads, and more trees than the man could count. It was, for all accounts, a beautiful place, and he felt at home despite having lived in the city nearly all his life. He knew, distantly, that this place could be dangerous— though it was more of an instinct than a rational thought. 

Ace trudged on, wandering down a beaten path. This path, he also knew, eventually opened into a river. And by the riverbank, the teen sensed that he would find Luffy. Another instinct, as strange and fleeting as the last. 

“Ace!” 

He glanced up, affirming his own predictions. There was Luffy, covered in muck. Ace, finding this neither surprising nor disgusting, smiled. 

“Luffy. You’re filthy, what’d you do?” 

“I fought a bunch of wolves!” Luffy exclaimed. 

_What?_

Ace heard himself laugh. “Luffy, you need to get stronger, if you’re looking this rough after a few wolves.” He continued on, gathering himself and heading near the water. “We should clean up before we get back.” A subtle nod to the river. “I’m not letting you trek mud everywhere like last time.”

Luffy pouted, then. 

He glanced longingly towards the water. “I wanna swim…” 

Ace stripped to his boxers, leaving his shoes at the edge of the riverbank. “Your fault for munching on a devil fruit like an idiot,” he commented. “Come on, get over here so you can at least soak your feet in.” 

The younger teen (and Ace realized then, that Luffy did indeed look quite a few years younger) tucked off his shoes, sliding his feet in with reluctance. He dipped a toe, cringing slightly. _“Cold,”_ the boy complained. 

“Don’t be a crybaby,” the older teen retorted, simply. Luffy pouted.

They stayed like that for a few moments; Ace soaking in the stream of water, adjusting to the crisp temperature, and Luffy staring into his own reflection and flicking his feet. 

After some time spent watching the younger teen, Ace took pity. 

“Here, what if I carried you?” 

Luffy glanced up. “What? You mean, into the water?” 

The brunette nodded. “Yeah. I can hold onto you, and you can pretend for a while that you can actually swim.” 

“You can do that?” the boy asked, with a hint of excitement. “I’m gonna feel heavy, though, because my body sort of just…” He did his best impression of a dead fish. 

“Are you calling me weak?” Ace challenged. The older brunette opened his arms, wobbling up to the riverbank. Water sloshed all around his legs. “Come on, it can’t be that hard. Just drop down, and I’ll catch you.”

He stopped underneath the teen, hands reaching forward. “It’s like a trust fall. Do you trust me, Luffy?” 

Luffy’s eyes shined. He dropped down, wordlessly.

There was a small splash—Ace felt the teen’s weight immediately— and the older teen swiftly wrapped his arms around the other’s quick-sinking body. Luffy’s own arms snagged and circled his neck, and the boy held on tight. “C-c-cold, _super_ cold,” he whispered, quivering all over. 

Ace laughed, holding him closer. “Better?” 

The teen shivered. After a few moments, he nodded softly. 

Another pause, filled with silence. They waddled deeper into the river, moving at a slow pace. “So?” the older teen asked. “How’s it feel now, the water?” 

The boy had become deadweight, arms slinking loosely over Ace’s shoulders. His head was buried into the curve of the brunette’s collarbone. “Luffy?” Ace murmured, hesitantly. Luffy’s breaths had slowed dramatically. His heart thudded at a pace that he’d only otherwise achieve while in deep sleep, and Ace worried for a moment that Luffy had fallen comatose.

He felt a soft fluttering breath against his skin, as Luffy spoke. “S’ nice…” The teen mumbled, finally. “...I miss it.”

They stayed there for a long time. 

Ace dipped Luffy’s arms into the water, leaning back just enough to rinse him of his accumulated dirt. When he grew tired of that, he let his body float, paddling them gently along the stream, and Luffy laid on top of him like he was a raft. 

When it reached noon, the sun bore down on them, and they floated aimlessly in the river, bathed in water and sunlight. 

* * *

Ace awoke slowly, feeling the rays of the sun flood warmth into the bedroom. 

He gave the nightstand an empty stare, numb with tranquility. 

After a few moments of laying there, Ace raised his body off of the bed, dragging himself away from his indescribable emotions. He glanced over to see Luffy, who had tossed and turned throughout the night but now slept quite peacefully. Ace sighed, feeling his mission accomplished. 

Reaching for his phone, he texted Marco the most irrelevant question out of many.

_“Marco, u ever heard of devil fruits?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and another chapter!!! (＾▽＾) this one came out so much easier than the last!! but now i have so many plotpoints, im risking losing my progress (；・∀・) a dangerous game im playing....


	5. Firewall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Luffy-Investigation-Team moves forward.

“Devil fruits,” Marco murmured to himself. “Devil fruits…”

He looked up the term on Wikipedia, and got absolutely nothing related. The man sighed. 

“Did you say something?” Whitebeard asked, glancing up from his desk. 

Marco scratched his head, reclining back into the loveseat. “It’s nothing, yoi.” He sucked his teeth. “Well, Ace texted me about something he heard in a… a dream, I guess.” 

“A dream?” 

Marco nodded. “Yeah.” 

The old man watched him, eyes unreadable. “Well, what is it? Maybe I’ve heard of it.” 

The commander laughed in response. “Nah, probably not, yoi. It doesn’t even show up on Wikipedia, and there’s no results anywhere else.” He shrugged nonchalantly, thinking the conversation died then. 

There was a beat of silence between them, where Marco tried not to notice how Whitebeard was still waiting for him to answer. 

He sighed, feeling rather silly now. “Okay, okay. You ever heard of devil fruits, pops?”

 _“Devil_ fruits?” 

“Yep.” Marco paused, chuckling at the situation. “I don’t know why Ace is making a dream dictionary out of me, but I can tell he’s bothered.” Marco wondered privately if he was going about this the wrong way, and it was actually some sort of biblical dream metaphor. 

The man scoffed at the thought. Ace was one of the least biblical things he knew.

He hummed, opening up his texts again. He stared at the few lines that Ace had sent him, vague and mysterious as they were. Of all the things the young commander pestered him about, this seemed the most nonsensical. 

An extended silence passed in the room. Marco glanced back up, only to find Whitebeard’s eyes trained on his own desk, as though in deep thought. 

“Uh... You don’t have to think too hard on it, pops. Pretty sure he dreamed up the idea, and he’s being weird, yoi.” Ace was ‘being weird’ pretty frequently these days. 

The old man gave a faint smile. 

Marco leaned up from his seat. “Have you heard of this term, pops?” 

Whitebeard glanced up at him with a considering stare. Then, he laughed, a steady rhythm that echoed through the room. 

“Once, maybe,” he answered. “A long time ago, perhaps.” 

Marco grinned, confusion and amusement mixing along his face. “What, ‘in a galaxy far, far away?’ Now _you’re_ being weird, pops.”

* * *

The next day arrived, seeing Nami, Usopp, Nico, and Zoro in front of a police station. 

It was luckily the weekend, so they met up early in the morning, reporting to the front desk of the station on the state of their missing person; Monkey D. Luffy. 

The front-desk officer was a lean young man, with pinkish hair and a slightly nerdy appearance to him. His nametag read Coby.

Nico stepped up to the plate, explaining the situation briefly. 

“So this Monkey D. Luffy has been missing for a _month?”_ Coby asked. “And… none of you are his immediate family members? Where are they? Why has no one reported earlier?” 

Nami leveled a stare at Zoro. “Gee, I wonder why.”

Zoro stuttered, glancing away. When Nami had demanded to know why he hadn’t mentioned anything earlier, he’d muttered a miserable defense along the lines of: _“Why would I check up on him every day? I’m not a fucking tryhard.”_

Upon hearing those words, Nami had shot him a glare like she was trying to kill him with it. 

“Well,” Nico began. “The situation is sort of complicated, and he doesn’t have much for immediate family. We only noticed when he didn’t show up for school.” 

Coby hummed. “I see. Well, why don’t you sit in the waiting room next to me, and I’ll get you an officer to—,” He stuttered briefly, eyes widening. “—Sorry. Ahem, I’ll get you an officer to write up an official report.” 

Nico looked at Coby curiously, but agreed nonetheless. The four settled down in the waiting room, and the officer kept an inconspicuous eye on them until they sat, out of sight. The moment the group was out of earshot, he scrambled up, pacing towards Lieutenant Tashigi’s office space. 

“Lieutenant,” Coby urged, leaning on her desk. Tashigi looked up from her papers, peering over her glasses. “...Yes, Coby?” 

“Um, this is kind of random,” the pink haired man began. 

“You’re not asking me out for dinner ag—,”

“No, no, hahaha. Please don’t bring that up. Uh, did you and captain Smoker interview some teenager, like a year or so younger than me? His name was Monkey D. Luffy?” 

Tashigi’s eyes widened. “Yeah, a few weeks ago. You _remembered?”_

Coby blushed. “Yes, I did. That’s not important. What’s important is that two of his friends, his high school teacher, and his neighbor are here to report him missing. According to them, he’s been missing for a month. You and the captain were the last to see him, though they don’t know that.”

“What?” Tashigi murmured excitedly, standing up in her seat. “Oh my goodness, where are they now?” 

“In the waiting room. I told them I was getting an officer to write a report for them.” 

The lieutenant scrambled her things, gathering a notepad and a pen. “Well, send them to captain Smoker’s office, then!” She almost broke into a sprint at the words. “Oh, and, thank you, Coby.” 

“Of— Of course.” 

* * *

“Uh, just follow me around the hall,” Coby said, leading the pack of four. “We’re almost at his office.” 

Usopp leaned in, hearing the telltale sounds of an argument down the hallway. Something along the lines of _‘Why are_ we _writing up some bullshit report? There’s like, 20 other bum-fuck officers that can do that job. Tell them I’m fucking busy.’_

Coby laughed ungraciously. “Almost there! Hahaha. Oh— here we are.” He loudly entered the office, Smoker veering a deadly glare towards him, and the four trailing behind him. “Good morning captain, here’s the witnesses— er, the suspe— uh, the,” fuck, Smoker made him nervous. 

Tashigi quickly stepped in. “These are the people reporting the missing person—,” 

“Oh, so _these_ are the fuc—” 

“—Monkey D. Luffy,” the lieutenant finished with a rushed breath. 

Smoker’s jaw dropped, slightly. 

An uncomfortable silence rendered itself into the room. 

Usopp nudged Zoro, muttering, “What the fuck is going on,” under his breath. It was no use, as Zoro was too busy staring single mindedly at the girl. 

The captain turned around and settled back in his chair, polite all of a sudden. “Good morning, everyone. Nice to meet you.” He blindly rummaged his hand in a desk drawer, eyes trained on every civilian in the room. 

Tashigi sighed, placing a police report form on his desk. “Here, sir.” God knew the man hadn’t filled out a missing persons form in ages, the way he dropped all the grunt work on grunts. 

Smoker cleared his throat. “Thank you, lieutenant. Coby, you’re excused.” The young officer nodded, quickly rushing away. “Anyway, you’re all here to report a Monkey D. Luffy? L-U-F-F-Y?” He scratched away at the paper with a cheap ballpoint pen. 

“Wait a second, aren’t you the captain of the _homicide_ division?” Nami interrupted, suddenly. “I saw you on television yesterday.” 

Smoker grimaced. “Oh, yeah. I am.” 

“This isn’t a report on a murder,” Nico explained. “It’s a report on a missing person.” 

“Yeah, well, the rest of the precinct’s busy right now, so I’m taking general complaints today,” Smoker retorted. Usopp looked out into the hall, seeing at least 4 wandering officers of presumably lower rank. 

Nico hummed in thought, giving the man a considering look. After some hesitance, she began to explain the story, incorporating as many details as she could in regards to Luffy’s patterns. Nami and Usopp chimed in from time to time. 

“And you?” Tashigi asked, looking over at Zoro. “You’re his neighbor, yes?”

“Huh?” the man replied, vacant. Nami subtly smacked his arm. 

“Oh, uh, Luffy. Yeah.” He paused, thinking on the matter. “Well, everyone said most of the stuff I wanted to say. But… I guess there’s something that was off about him lately?” 

Smoker leaned in, pen tapping on the paper. “Yeah?”

“I think for the last few months, he started going out more often,” Zoro explained. “I thought he was hanging out with friends or something, but after hearing what Nami and Usopp said, I don’t think that was the case.”

“Oh?” The captain muttered. “Well, what was he doing, in your opinion?” 

Zoro shrugged. “I don’t know. At some point he started going out for walks, and he’d walk until I was finished with my midnight training, which was like, 2 AM.” 

“Did he give you any idea where he was going?” 

The green haired man sighed. “Uh… Not really, no.” And he was too abysmal with maps to point out a route anyway.

“I see.” Smoker leaned back in his chair. “Well, there’s not much to go on, but we’ll update you on the situation if there is anything new.” He asked Nico for her contact number, and bid the four goodbye. Coby escorted them out of the building. 

* * *

“Guys,” Usopp stage-whispered, exiting the precinct. He’d stayed behind to quickly use the bathroom.

“Yeah?” Nami asked. 

“You will not believe what I just heard.” 

Zoro raised a brow at him. “What, in the _toilet?”_

Nico giggled, which was a surprising show of a poor sense of humor. Usopp shook his head quickly, sighing in exasperation. “No, Zoro, I didn’t actually go to the bathroom. I stayed and listened to that lieutenant and captain!” 

"...Why?” 

“What do you mean, why? Don’t you see how weird they were all being? I can smell a lie from a mile away.” Usopp leaned in. “They were talking about Luffy, and _Portgas D. Ace.”_

Nami gasped, eyes widening in revelation. “That guy? He was on the news, he died last— Oh, shit.” 

“He died last month!” Usopp whisper-screamed. “Last month! Like, the same time Luffy disappeared!” 

“Hm,” Nico paused, considering the matter. “That’s interesting.” 

Usopp inhaled, then exhaled. “No offence, professor, but _'i_ _nteresting’ doesn’t cover this!_ What if that guy took us to the homicide detectives because they think Luffy’s _dead_ already?!” 

“Oh, my god.” Nami put a hand to her heart. “This can’t be happening.” 

“—And they were talking about how they were going to further investigate the ‘Luffy incident.’ Luffy is already an _incident_ to them. Who knows what happened to him?” 

“Well, let’s not reach any conclusions,” Nico began. Nami and Usopp turned a shared look of despair upon her. 

“Then what else will we reach for? Blind faith?” Nami muttered, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. In a small whisper, she finished, “My friend is involved in the death of one of the most well-known gangsters in the _city.”_

“No, I think I agree with your professor right now.” Zoro folded his arms. He seemed just as calm as Nico, somehow. “This is getting out of hand, and we only know a few details.” 

The statement rendered Nami and Usopp briefly silent.

“Well,” Usopp mumbled, deflated. “What do we do, then? Clearly the police aren’t telling us the truth about _something.”_

Nico smiled at the teen. “Why don’t we meet up again on Monday night? I can treat everyone at Baratie, and we can make a plan together.” 

Zoro looked mildly put off by the suggestion, but agreed to a free meal. Nami and Usopp relented as well, and their Monday night rendezvous was confirmed. 

* * *

“Hold still,” Ace muttered. “I’m switching out your bandages.” 

So Luffy held still, sitting comfortably on the living room sofa. He watched the older man tinker away with the waterproof bandages, eyes following Ace’s natural precision. “You’ve done this before,” the younger teen commented.

Ace glanced up. “Yeah, actually. I had my arm in a cast once.” In all his stubbornness, Ace had insisted on changing his own bandages by himself. 

“Really? What happened?” 

The older man hesitated. It was a stupid story to tell. 

He glanced away from Luffy, and replied, “Long story short, I was drunk at a bar and some guy pissed me off. I dunked some Fireball whiskey on my hand and told him to come get a shot with me, and I decked him in the face. Turns out he had a metal jaw replacement, and I broke it, but I sprained my wrist, too.” The injury only lasted a few weeks, but Ace had gotten the hang of treating it. 

“Woah, you got into a bar fight!” Luffy grinned. 

“Yes, yes, I did. I was sloshed.” Ace smiled to himself. “Apparently I was yelling something about ‘Fire Fists’. Fire Fist Ace was my nickname for a while, did you know that?” 

Luffy chortled, greatly amused by the detail. 

The commander, seemingly inspired by his joy, opted to share more. “There’s a video of that night somewhere, I think Jozu had it. He showed it to pops, and I thought pops was gonna have a fucking _stroke,_ he was laughing so hard.” 

“Even Whitebeard saw it?” 

“Yep. He appointed me with the ‘Fire Fist’ title himself.” 

Luffy grabbed at his own phone, pulling up Jozu’s contact. Ace glanced over, though his attention stayed on the teen’s arm. “Oh, no. Don’t ask him for it. It’s so stupid.” 

_“jozu. do u hv fire fits ace vid”_ Luffy texted, albeit poorly. 

Ace sighed. “I will never live this down…”

Luffy’s phone pinged only a moment later, with Jozu sending a text that consisted only of _“HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA”_ and a minute long video. The young teen quickly pressed play. 

“You hear this motherfucker?” Ace said, in the video. Or at least, he tried, but he only managed to sound belligerent. “He’s talkin’ shit about my pops. Nobody talks shit about my pops.” 

The commander began to blush, hearing himself on the phone. “In my defense, I would say all this when I’m sober, too.”

“You’re fucking drunk, Ace,” somebody said off-screen. “He said like, one thing about the Whitebeard gang.” 

Drunk-Ace clearly didn’t care. “If we let some guy say one thing, he’ll say five other things. He won’t shut the fuck up!” 

The guy in question turned from the counter, a large, blonde, military-esque man that Luffy fleetingly recognized. “How about you shut the fuck up?” He snapped, in Ace’s direction. The room echoed with various ‘ooooh’s’. Already, some bouncers were framing the edges of the screen, seemingly expecting confrontation. 

Drunk-Ace smiled. He leaned over, towards the camera, grabbing a bottle of Fireball off the table. “Hey Jozu,” he began. 

“Oh, my god. Here we go,” Ace muttered, sighing. Luffy was already beginning to laugh. 

“You know what they call this shot?” Drunk-Ace started pouring Fireball all over his right hand. 

“A waste of fucking liquor?” Jozu answered, through a fit of laughter. 

“No! It’s called… _Fire Fist.”_ The commander grinned, like he’d said something groundbreakingly funny. “Hahaha, Fire Fist. Hahahaha.” Drunk-Ace walked over to the blonde on the counter, bringing said hand out.

“Hey, dude. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to piss you off,” the brunette began. The man glanced over at him, answering with a gruff, “Whatever.” 

“No, come on, bro. I mean it. Want a shot with me?” He held his hand out. 

The blonde stared warily at him. “You’ll pay?” 

Ace punched him clean across the face. “You’ll pay. Motherfucker.”

The blonde collapsed to the floor, and bouncers jumped to drag them away from each other. The video was shaking, probably because Jozu was screaming with laughter. Drunk-Ace was also screaming, “You like that shot? I call that Fire Fist! I think it packs a fucking _punch,_ doesn’t it?” 

Ace groaned, cheeks burning. “That was so bad, Luffy. Please stop watching.” 

Drunk-Ace did a small shriek all of a sudden. “Oh fuck, my fist’s actually on fire! Somebody get the firefighters!” 

“What the fuck?” Jozu asked, stumbling over. He glanced at Ace’s hand. “No it isn’t, stupid. You’ve got alcohol all over your bloody wounds.” He guffawed, and the video ended there. 

Luffy was grinning so hard that his cheeks prickled with the strain. He glanced over at the older brunette. “I can’t believe you thought your hand was on _fire.”_

“Oookay, we’re never watching that again,” Ace muttered. His face was so heated that he couldn’t bear to look at the younger teen. “No replays. One view per person. Your view’s up.” Whitebeard himself must have watched it 5 times over. 

“What? Not even one more time?” 

“No! No more. I can’t believe I even brought this up. Anyway, my dumbassery led to me being able to do all this post-hospital care, so consider yourself lucky.” As embarrassing as it was, it gave Ace a nice flutter to see the teen so overjoyed.

“I’m very lucky!” Luffy smiled, eyes twinkling. He glanced back at the video, though he chose not to replay it. 

“That’s so like you,” the teen murmured, to himself. 

The comment gave the man a pause. 

He finished up the bandages, making sure they were exactly as tight as needed. “Is it?” Ace asked, then. “You seem pretty familiar with what’s like me.” Luffy looked up in surprise, caught off guard by the response. 

The commander smiled, patting his shoulder lightly. “Do you think you can move your arm a bit, Luffy? We have to get you caught up on those physical therapy exercises.” 

* * *

It was 8 PM on a Sunday night, the night before Robin had promised to treat the Luffy-Investigation-Team to dinner. 

She herself had decided to clock in some investigation as well. Robin snuck into New Age highschool’s staff room, signing into a computer after she’d made sure the building was empty. The professor had an inkling, based on Usopp’s comments, that she could find some local hospital reports on Luffy around the time of Ace’s death.

She was halfway done with hacking into the hospital’s database until— “Robin?” 

The professor jumped in her seat. She swiveled around, facing the intruder. 

“Franky? What are you doing here?” 

He was New Age’s incredibly eccentric art teacher, Franky. The man looked like he’d come back from a trip to Hawaii. “I should be asking you that. Did you forget something in the office, too? I left a bunch of homework papers in my…” He drifted off, staring at the computer screen. “Are you… hacking something?” 

Robin pursed her lips. “...No.”

Franky raised a brow. “You know, if it makes you feel better, I robbed a bank once with my best friend.” 

_“What?”_

“Okay, yeah, forget I said that. Anyway, what are you hacking into? I didn’t take you for a white-collar criminal.” Franky settled down on a chair next to her. “You must be serious, if you’re using a public computer.” 

“I…” Robin hesitated. “Do you know Monkey D. Luffy?” 

Franky shuddered, slightly. “That kid. Yeah, I gave him an F in my class.” Luffy made for an abhorrent artist. “He was pretty funny, though.” 

“He’s missing,” Robin explained, turning back to the computer. “Not only that, but homicide detectives are investigating him.”

Franky’s jaw dropped. _“What?_ Are you kidding?” 

“They’ve also connected him to Portgas D. Ace, the Whitebeard member.” 

“Holy _shit!”_ The man jittered in his seat. “Well, what are you going to do?” 

“I’m hacking into the local hospital first, to see their patient database. If Luffy’s dead, they’ll have his body on record, I believe.” 

A chill went straight down Franky’s spine. “Why do you have to go with the _worst_ possible scenario…” 

Robin smiled in response, barely lifting her hands from the keyboard. “You know, there could also just be records for minor injury. If I wanted to be truly macabre, I would have visited a cemetery.” 

Suddenly, the computer flashed a record: Monkey D. Luffy had been on file. He was assigned to the ER for a major surgery, but most importantly, he’d survived. 

“I found him,” Robin urged, leaning into the screen. “I even know what day he was discharged— I can find the camera footage for that day, if I comb hard enough.” 

“My heart can’t handle this,” Franky muttered. His eyes were peeled on the screen, adrenaline pumping despite the fact that he wasn’t doing anything. 

“Shh,” Robin hushed. She typed faster, eyebrows knitting along her forehead. Finally passing over the hospital’s security checkpoints, Robin pulled up a video of Luffy leaving with his arm in a cast. A young man was accompanying him. 

Franky squinted at the screen. “Robin, I think that’s Ace…” 

The woman leaned in, intrigued at the footage. “You might be right, Franky. He looks very simi…” Her voice died. 

The footage cut off, and disappeared. 

“What happened?” Franky asked, sitting up. “Where’d it go?” 

Robin didn’t answer him, hands returning to the keyboard. She typed quickly, attempting to return to Luffy’s medical records, only to run into thin air. A few more blocked attempts triggered a firewall, and the woman quickly signed out of the computer. 

She sucked in a breath, eyes wide. 

“Robin. What just happened."

The professor turned towards him. It took a moment for her to explain. “Somebody just wiped out all the records of Luffy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh, i thought it was fitting that if robin could understand the language of the past, a modern day reincarnation of her could understand the language of the future ٩(^ᴗ^)۶ 
> 
> im very excited for the upcoming chapters!!! this felt like a whooole lotta plot but there will be more acexlu coming soon ♡ also, fire fist ace is *chefs kiss*


	6. Night Terrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace has another dream.

“How long do you plan to leave, sir?” Bogard asked. He had a handful of documents waiting for the old man to take on his trip. “I’ve got all the information I could gather,” the hatted agent confirmed. “I went and deleted the sources as well, as per your request.” 

“Hm? So fast? That’s great, Bogard. I’m leaving tonight, but I don’t know when I’ll come back to headquarters...” 

“I also have your snacks, sir. For the flight home.” The agent held up a plastic pack. “Rice crackers.” He paused. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir…”

“What is it?” 

“Why are you erasing the evidence of your grandson? Are you protecting him, on the off chance that he’s become a Whitebeard member?” 

Garp turned towards him, eyes wide in shock. “What’d you say, son?” 

The agent backpedaled, explaining. “I’m not accusing you. It’s just that we already have the matter with your... son," he paused, taking in Garp's offended stare, "And now the possibility of your grandson being a criminal… I don't have doubts, but others will.” 

Bogard frowned, pursing his lips. “You know, since you’re the director of _Internal Investigations_ and all.” 

The old man scratched his beard. “Yeah, I guess it makes me look mighty corrupt, doesn’t it.” 

Garp sighed. “Where did I go wrong with them…”

“Anyway,” Bogard stated, “I think it’s a pertinent detail now.” If not to protect the old man's reputation, then to at least protect the integrity of his own career. “You should probably think up some sort of alibi.”

The man clapped a hand on the younger agent’s shoulder. “Bogard, don’t worry about me. This whole Ace thing goes way back. I’m just doing what a good gramps would do, you know?” 

“...Tampering with evidence?” 

Garp grinned. “As far as I’m concerned, there ain’t no evidence if there ain’t no crime! Bwahaha!” 

“That was the opposite of ‘reassuring,’ sir.” 

* * *

After the ‘Fire Fist Ace’ story, Luffy pestered the second commander for more details on his daily life, ranging from tales of his adventures to those of his childhood. Ace felt compelled to share them, if not to see how the teen would react. 

So Ace spent hours telling him: He told Luffy of his mother, who passed away the same year he’d dropped out of New Age, then of his closest friends, who willingly joined him when he became a part of Whitebeard’s gang, then of his newfound family, who had taken care of him ever since. 

He told Luffy of the time Newgate promoted him to second commander. The gang was in shock at the promotion (the man was so young after all), but Whitebeard had simply said, “Ace was always meant to be a commander. I’ve just been waiting for him to prove it, for the rest of you.”

The older brunette spoke fondly of those words. He had burned the quote verbatim inside his own heart. No one ever believed in him the way Whitebeard did, not even his own mother. 

Eventually, Luffy began to pry. Ace, playing close attention, answered as best as he could. 

“Do you know Sabo?” The teen asked, peering at him curiously. 

The older man paused. He scratched his head. “What the hell’s a Sabo? Is that some kind of Korean food or something?”

Luffy’s face fell. Ace felt, briefly, that he’d poorly answered a critical question. He watched the teen purse his lips, and committed the term ‘Sabo’ to memory. 

“Nevermind,” Luffy mumbled. “Anyway. Uhh... Why did your mom die?” 

“Well, _that’s_ one hell of a question to ask.”

“Ah! Sorry. We don’t have to mention it.” 

Ace laughed. “I’m kidding. She passed away so long ago, I don’t mind talking about it.” He paused, giving Luffy a bit of a stare. “You should still get a lesson in manners. I can’t believe you called my pops an _‘old man’_ to his face…” And that Whitebeard let him off scot-free. 

“But he _is_ an old man.”

The commander shook his head at Luffy’s guileless expression. He decided to let the teen off the hook, for now. “My mom died because she was very sickly. She was always physically weak, so I had to take care of everything around the house as soon as I could handle it.” 

“What about your dad?” The young brunette interjected. “What happened to him?” 

Ace paused again. He clapped a hand on Luffy’s (good) shoulder. “I’ve got one dad. His name’s Edward Newgate.” 

Luffy snorted a bit, smiling. “Right. Sorry.” 

“But if you’re asking about my sperm donor,” and Ace believed even that term was too nice, “He was gone when I was born. He’s a coward.” 

“He ditched you guys?”

“No. He died.” 

Luffy stared at him. “Does dying make you a coward?” 

“Of course it does!” Ace snapped. “That guy left behind people who needed him. My mom loved him to the bitter end, but what did he ever do for her? He was too damned busy being dead.” The commander huffed. “I spent my life cleaning up after the mess he left behind.” 

The teen took a moment to process the answer. Then he laughed, as though Ace’s reaction deeply amused him. “I think… I think I get what you mean,” Luffy replied, smiling. 

“Well, I guess you do, considering your complete lack of parents. Where the hell are those guys anyway?” Ace tried to say it in the least patronizing tone possible. He was too embarrassed to admit his curious worry over the state of Luffy’s life. 

The teen shrugged. “Who knows.” 

Or rather, _who cares,_ from the tone of his voice. He elaborated, “I don’t really think about them much, to be honest. When my gramps started getting too busy with work, my nanny raised me.” 

“Were you mad at your grandpa for leaving, then?”

Luffy shook his head. 

“Gramps needs to stay away, if anything…” He muttered, cryptically. Yet another response that the commander would store in his head. “But my nanny was nice! She still checks up on me once in a while.” Luffy grinned at the thought of her. 

“Then who left you behind?” Ace asked, cocking his head. He was running out of immediate familial relations, and he was fairly certain the teen didn’t have any siblings. 

Luffy softened. He answered Ace’s question with the vaguest possible phrase: “I’ve lost someone special before. And it hurts every time.” 

Ace narrowed his eyes, _every time_ ricocheting like an echo chamber in his head. The phrase was common enough, but it felt like a strange choice of words. He’d found that Luffy’s words were often incredibly simplistic, but strangely revealing. 

“I see,” he replied, finally. 

Luffy spoke no further on the matter. The room went silent for a moment, until one of them glanced at the time on their phones. 1:49 AM. 

“Ah, shit... It’s almost 2,” the older man muttered, getting up. “We should be sleeping. Let’s go to bed.” 

“Okay!” Luffy agreed. As though by habit, he grabbed Ace’s hand, tugging him towards the bedroom. The commander’s arm prickled with goosebumps, like an electric shock passed through his fingers. 

Despite this, he said nothing, letting Luffy drag him along. 

* * *

That night, Ace had another dream. 

It was similar to the one the night before, filled with events he couldn’t explain, but instinctively understood. 

He was entrenched in a scene like a fantasized war, with ships stretched far along the horizon, and two great tidal waves frozen above his head. There was screaming all around him, cannonfire, explosions, and the vague but instantly recognizable form of Whitebeard, standing like a beacon in the frozen ocean. 

Ace realized, upon observing the scene, that he was in the center of it. 

He was chained and kneeling in the middle of a giant stage, looking down upon hundreds of people (some that he occasionally recognized); almost everyone was yelling and running towards him. 

Out of the crowd, one small, desperate figure made it into his periphery. It was Luffy.

Luffy was screaming his name at the top of his lungs. 

Ace knew, subconsciously, that the teen had achieved the impossible in order to reach this place. 

He also knew that there were cameras everywhere, so when his heart felt as though it was breaking inside his chest, Ace turned to face the ground so that he could cry in peace. 

* * *

The man woke up, in the dead of the night. His heart was pounding viciously, sweat dripping into his pillow like he’d had the worst nightmare of his life. 

Ace whipped his head to the side, eyes still adjusting to the lack of light. Luffy was laying next to him, sleeping quite peacefully. 

He huffed a shuddering breath, and a bizarre desire to hold onto the teen and never let go washed over him. Ace almost smacked himself, in his attempts to fight that desire. He scrambled for his phone, and without a second thought, the brunette dialed up Marco.

A few rings passed. He cursed, quietly. 

Then, the phone clicked, and: _“H...Hello?”_ Marco asked, on the line. _“Ace? ...I hope you know it’s 4 AM right now, yoi.”_ The man’s tone was gruff, like he’d just woken up. Ace would feel bad, if he wasn’t too busy panicking like nobody’s business.

“Marco, I’m going fucking nuts,” Ace whispered, very quietly. He glanced back at Luffy, making sure the teen was still sound asleep. 

_“What?”_

“I’m going crazy. I’m losing my damned mind. I’m—”

_“Dude, why are you whispering? I can barely hear you.”_

Ace paused, sucking in a breath. He spoke at a marginally louder decibel. “... For reasons, Luffy is sleeping next to me. Please don’t make me wake him.” 

A sound that definitely seemed like a snort made it through the phone. _“Why don’t you just go talk in the living room, yoi.”_

The thought emerged unbidden in Ace’s head; _If I let Luffy leave my sight, he might_ **_DIE!_ **

He pursed his lips, recognizing that to be an incredibly unreasonable and possibly even paranoid idea. Ace could say a lot of things to Marco, but not that. 

Instead, he said, “I can’t. Sorry.”

Marco paused. Ace could almost see his eyebrows raising. _“So, when did you start sleeping with Luffy, anyway? If you called at 4 AM to tell me you’re going crazy, and it’s just because you’ve caught feelings or something, I’m going to be pretty annoyed, yoi.”_ The older commander laughed, and added, _“But if this is how you’re acting, he must be really good in bed.”_

Ace’s cheeks reddened. _Is that what I’m doing?_ He asked himself, privately. _Am I just catching feelings? Does love feel like this?_

If this was love, Ace decided he was better off preserving his mental health. 

“I’m not _sleeping,_ sleeping with him. I’m platonically lying next to him because he’s apparently easily lonely.” 

_“... Are you sure_ **_you’re_ ** _not the lonely one?”_

Ace bit his lip. He no longer had any idea how he felt. “That’s not the point.” 

_“So get to the point, yoi.”_

“The point is…” He drifted off, scene after scene of the dream playing in his mind. “Okay so, the point is, I had another weirdly vivid dream—”

Marco cut him off. _“Ace, if you are about to tell me about a wet dream involving Luffy, I’d like to remind you that I am 43 years old. I’m too old for this shit. Just fuck him and get it over with, kid.”_

“It was not a wet dream,” Ace hissed. “Yesterday’s wasn’t either.” 

He hoped. 

It did feel uncomfortably intimate. If the brunette closed his eyes, he could still feel the teen’s weight bearing down on him, lashes tickling his neck, maybe even some body-warmth. _Plus, you were literally wet,_ his brain supplied, with a poorly-timed dad joke.

 _“You promise this isn’t_ — _”_

“I _promise._ Christ.” Ace shut his eyes. “Marco, I really don’t… I can’t explain myself right now. I think I’m high strung.” He slowed down, gathering his thoughts before he could continue. “I had a nightmare.” 

The older commander paused, absorbing that information. 

_“... Awww,”_ He cooed, then. _“You called me over a nightmare? I wonder if this is what it’s like to have children...”_

Ace’s cheeks flushed in response. “I swear I won’t call on you ever again, even if I get _shot.”_

Marco laughed loudly. _“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Well, I’m not. It’s actually so cute that you’d call me over a nightmare when, like, you’ve beaten 5 people into hospital beds once.”_ One of whom did not survive the encounter. _“I’m getting a totally new perspective of you, yoi.”_

Marco continued, drifting now. _“You know, it’s like Luffy brought out this adorable side of you that no one knew was there. Jozu can’t shut up about it.”_

“What? What the hell are you guys talking about.” 

_“Don’t worry, we still know you’re a fighter and everything. But man, it’s hard to remember that when we’re watching you spoon feed Luffy his dinner.”_ The blonde cackled. Ace hovered a hand over the receiver, glancing at Luffy’s still form. The teen did not rouse from his sleep.

“He broke his arm, asshole. And will you let me _explain_ myself?”

_“Yes, yes. What was the dream?”_

“It was…” Ace paused. 

“It… Everything was frozen over, and it felt like a scene from hell. Thousands of people were fighting. You were there, actually. You had wings like fire, and you were flying hundreds of yards above everyone.” 

_“What? I sound cool, yoi.”_

Ace shut his eyes, lips quirking slightly. “Yeah, I guess. Pops was there too, standing out on a ship. It was like, a pirate ship. I think you guys were fighting some sort of army, and the whole place was a giant fort or something.” 

_“So we were sea-gangsters. Ace, this sounds like the opposite of a nightmare, yoi. It’s ideal, actually. Wings of fire...”_

The brunette laughed quietly, easing up a little. “No, it was terrible. I was in the middle of the fort like some sort of miserable damsel-in-distress. In retrospect, I think I was about to get executed. There were cameras.” 

Ace paused. 

He sucked in a breath, trailing into the hard part. “I was crying, and some guy was standing next to me, watching all of you like he wanted to kill you with his stare. I was… I was…” 

The brunette thought he could continue, as though the dream’s impact had faded, but as soon as he tried to explain himself, all his emotions returned in full force.

_“...Yeah?”_

“You were all screaming—,” Ace shut his eyes, trying not to stammer, “You were all screaming that you’d save me, and the cannons were so loud that I knew it didn’t matter. But I still tried to tell you to leave. I was so tired, and frail, I could barely even speak a sentence. All I could do was beg under my breath for you to leave.”

_“Ace…”_

“I was praying. I wanted to just… Hurry up and die, so everyone could go home. I kept trying to tell you, but no one could hear me.” Ace would never admit it out loud to the other commander, but he had begun to cry. He wiped solemnly at the tears. “It felt so real. I’ve never had a nightmare like that.” 

_“We would never leave you, Ace. Not even in a dream. And not even if you begged us.”_

“I— I know that. That’s why it was so terrible. It felt like I was taking you down with me.” 

_“Who cares, yoi? Ride or die, right?”_

Ace choked on a laugh. He continued, smiling. “Then, all of a sudden, Luffy came out of the crowd. He looked like he’d gone through a landmine or something, and there was blood all over him. He was running towards me and shrieking my name so loud, I thought the whole planet could hear it.” 

The brunette paused, staring down at the teen’s peaceful form. “You know, in my dream, I thought of another term I’ve never heard.” 

_“Like devil fruits?”_

“Yeah. I saw Luffy, all broken and battered and running towards me, and all of a sudden I was thinking ‘Impel Down.’ I still have no fucking clue what that is.” 

Marco hummed, testing the words as well. _“Impel Down… Never heard of it either.”_

“Right? I don’t know what the hell’s happening to me. I’ve never had such cryptic dreams before.”

_“You know, I actually asked pops about devil fruits earlier.”_

_“What?”_ Ace hissed. “Don’t tell pops about my dreams. My dreams are so stupid. I don’t even know why I’m stressed out by them.” 

Marco laughed. _“Actually, he said he’s heard the term before.”_

“He— He _has?”_

_“Yep.”_

The blonde paused. _“Say, were you sleeping next to Luffy yesterday, too?”_

The brunette stuttered, taken aback by the question. “I… Well, yeah. Platonically,” Ace emphasized.

 _“Mhmm.”_ Marco hummed, in response. _“Maybe that’s impacting your sleep? You should start taking notes of all these new words that are popping up in your dreams. If there’s any patterns, you’ll see for yourself, yoi.”_

“Do you really think Luffy would have such a profound impact on me?” 

_“It’s not about what I think, Ace. Clearly, something’s changing. I don’t know what your dreams were like, but they have to be pretty intense for you to feel like you’re going nuts.”_

The brunette curled up in the bed. He gripped the phone towards his ear, laying there in the dark. “I… I don’t know how else to explain it. But, you said pops heard the term before. What did he say?” Ace needed to know. 

For a moment, Marco didn’t answer.

When he finally did, he said, _“Pops didn’t say shit, yoi. I kept asking him, but he just laughed and refused to explain himself. If you want an answer, you’ll probably have to ask him yourself.”_

Ace swallowed, thickly. “Okay. I guess. I swear, this shit makes me feel ridiculous.”

Marco was grinning on the other end, though Ace couldn't see it. _“Like I said, take notes, and calm down. No matter what, these are still just dreams."_ He paused. _"You almost got killed a month ago, you should be more worried about reality.”_

“Yeah,” Ace muttered. “I know.” 

He sighed. “I think I feel better now.” And a little bit idiotic, to boot. “Thanks, Marco.”

_“No problem, yoi. Tell me about anything else, okay? Except for wet dreams. I’ll be damned if you can't figure that shit out by yourself.”_

Ace scoffed. “Asshole. Goodnight.” 

Marco snickered, hanging up on him. 

He turned over, dropping the phone near his own pillow. Ace wanted to reach out and touch Luffy, to see if the teen was truly there, or alive, even. He’d had a sickening feeling in his stomach during that dream. It was a feeling of deja vu, of Luffy running desperately forward, hand reaching out to save him. The thought had become an unbearable one. 

* * *

It was Monday night at Baratie. 

The Luffy-Investigation-Team was gathered, and Nico mildly regretted offering to pay for dinner. They were entrenched in discussion over her latest discoveries. 

“You _hacked_ into the hospital records?” Nami asked, incredulously. 

Nico shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“Well, what did you see?” Zoro asked, glancing over at the woman. “Is Luffy dead or not?”

“Zoro!” Usopp hissed. He glared at the man. “If you say something like that, you’re gonna _jinx it.”_

“If Luffy was the type to die so easily, he’d have been gone already. So is he dead or not?”

Nico shook her head. “He’s not dead. In fact, he survived a critical surgery a month ago.” She leaned in, propping her arms on the table. “I saw recordings of him leaving with an arm in a cast. He was accompanied by…”

Franky, who was now part of the Team, continued: “By Portgas D. Ace.” He paused, for dramatic effect. “We think it’s him, anyway. He looks kind of generic.” 

Sanji scoffed. “Everyone looks generic next to you.” 

“What was that?” Franky snapped, affronted. “I take pride in my appearance! But anyway, we saw Luffy with some guy who was possibly Ace. But that’s not even the _crazy_ part. Robin, tell them the crazy part.”

The table gathered together, leaning in like it was a conspiracy. Robin answered, hushed tone and all. “The crazy part is that while I was accessing the records… Somebody erased them all.” 

She paused, staring at the table’s reactions. “I don’t know who, but it seems like the Whitebeards are trying to cover up Ace’s supposed death. So I wouldn’t be surprised if it was them.” 

Nami sucked in a breath. Her eyes were blown wide like saucers. “You don’t think they’re holding him hostage, do you?” She paused, biting her lip. “Who am I kidding. They’re gangsters. They’re definitely holding him hostage. God, damn it.”

“Can you stop talking about Luffy like he’s some kid?” Zoro snapped. “Nobody on the planet could hold him hostage. If he’s still alive, it’s fine.” 

“It’s not _fine,_ Zoro! What the hell is wrong with you!” Usopp responded, backed by Nami’s affirmations. “We need to save him! He’s probably out there, being lied to, or tricked, or whatever.” 

“He’s probably _none of those things,”_ the green-haired man retorted. “We don’t even know if he’s actually with the Whitebeards. And so what if he is? Clearly, he’s okay.” 

“His arm’s in a cast!” 

“He probably tripped or something!” Zoro yelled. 

“Ugh, can you shut the hell up?” Sanji glared him down, rounding around to leer over the man. “You’re screwing with my customers. Look, they’re getting scared because of you.” He pointed around the room, now burdened with tension. 

Zoro stood up abruptly in his chair, hovering over the blonde. He shot him a deathly glare as though he was planning to start a fight right there and then. 

At the last moment, the green haired man backed off. “Fuck it, whatever. You guys go do your thing and hack into some shit. If Luffy’s really being held hostage, I’ll do things _my_ way.”

He stormed out of the restaurant, barely glancing back. 

Usopp stared at his retreating form, turning back to the table. “...Uh, what exactly is Zoro’s ‘way’ of handling things?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh this is one of my favorite chaps so far! i had a lot of fun writing it. i can't wait to write more character progression. i know zoro sounds dickish but he's one of my faves LOL 
> 
> also, marco & ace have my fave friendship (Ｔ▽Ｔ)


	7. Darling Soulmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoro buys some kitchen knives.

A few days passed. 

Ace found, within these days, that the dreams were relentless, and plentiful. He’d gotten to the point where his dreams felt much longer, and he would have several throughout the night. As Marco had predicted, there were many terms and events that Ace did not understand, and Luffy was intertwined within all of them. 

He also found that there were several storylines: for instance, the night before, Ace had dreamed of Luffy becoming a firefighter. 

* * *

“Ace. Aaace,” Luffy called, shaking the other man. “Are you awake?”

The commander opened his eyes, blearily rubbing away signs of sleep. In truth, he’d been awake for half an hour, processing the dreams he’d had throughout the night. 

“I’m up, I’m up,” the man muttered. It was 9 AM, and the teen was most likely hungry. Granted, it didn’t need to be 9 AM for Luffy to be hungry. “Just give me a minute. We’re not eating till after you shower.” 

The young brunette pouted. “But I’m hungry now.” 

“I have to change your bandages,” Ace retorted. He yawned, dragging himself out of the bed. 

“Ace?” Luffy asked, following the man. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Ace paused, looking over. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He excluded the fact that he’d dreamed of his own death at least 4 times in the course of 3 days. Ace didn’t even think that was possible, but clearly, life was here to prove him wrong. 

“...I’m fantastic,” the commander added, when he saw the teen staring openly at him. 

Luffy’s responding glance was carefully blank. “Okay.”

“What…” The man muttered, under his breath. He trudged over to the bathroom, dragging the teen along. “Come on, sit on the tub.” He shuffled Luffy over, sitting down in a footstool next to the tub’s edge.

They settled in the bathroom, doing what had become a sort of routine over the course of two weeks. Ace would help the teen dress and undress, inspect his wounds, swap out his bandages once in a while, and they’d be on with their day. While the other commanders would surely interpret a very different scene in their own heads, Ace ensured that this routine was an innocent one. 

“Hold still,” the commander insisted, undoing the bandages. “Your arm looks a lot better lately. We can probably get the cast off of you soon.” 

“Really? Thank goodness…” 

Ace chuckled, dryly. “I can’t imagine what a ruckus you’ll be with both arms free.” 

He stopped, momentarily. 

The older man leaned in, staring at a small discoloration in the teen’s body; he’d never quite noticed it before, but now it seemed as though it was glaring at him. 

“Luffy? What’s th—” He reached out to touch the skin on the teen’s chest, only for Luffy to gasp and pull away. 

Ace withdrew his hand, eyes wide. “S-sorry,” he muttered, leaning back. “Uh, what’s… What’s that on your chest?” 

“Huh? What are you talking about?” The teen retorted, with the expression of a terrible liar. 

Ace squinted at him. “What the hell do you mean, what am I talking about?” He reached out again, politeness-be-damned, “This fucking thing right here.” His fingers traced the full outline, mapping out an X. 

The teen shivered, skin prickling into goosebumps. He waved Ace’s hand away, covering his own torso protectively. “Don’t touch it!” 

“What?” Ace asked, incredulous. “What even _is_ it? Like, a big birthmark? Is it some old scar? Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed _now—”_

A scene from his dream flashed like lightning before his eyes. Ace dropped the bandages in his palm, staring at the teen’s chest. 

“...Ace?” 

Luffy leaned in, putting a hand on the man’s forehead. “Ace? Are you sick or something?” 

“Wh-what?” The man asked, feeling suddenly breathless. “Why do you keep asking that…” He did a double take, looking at himself in the mirror. “Oh, shit.” Ace’s reflection looked utterly ragged. 

“...Jesus,” he muttered, head spinning. “Whatever. I need to fix your bandages.” One task at a time, the commander decided. _‘Discolored skin mark’_ was just another term that was going to go into the good old backburner. 

Ace finished up the last bit on the teen’s shoulder, easing up from the stool. “Alright, come on. Let’s clean you up.” 

And so Luffy ‘showered’. Or rather, Ace took the showerhead and hosed him down like a wet dog. Somewhere in the process, he threw in some soap, rustled some shampoo onto the teen’s mop of hair, and then let him wash his own body. 

It was their tentative method for dealing with one of the more intimate aspects of Luffy’s injury, though the teen seemed not to care much if Ace saw him naked anyway (in fact, the teen only seemed self conscious _now,_ since Ace had seen that strange birthmark).

Otherwise, Luffy emerged as proud as the day he was born, and Ace shoved a towel into his good hand. “There,” he commented, patting the teen’s back. “Like new. Let’s get you some clothes.” 

The young brunette grabbed at a button-up t-shirt that was hanging by the sink. “This one!” He announced.

Ace rolled his eyes. “That’s mine. When will you wear your own clothes?” He kept meaning to pick up some new shirts for the teen, but it hardly mattered when Luffy was raiding most of his wardrobe anyway. 

“But I like this one,” the teen protested, trying and failing to slide the shirt on. The commander sighed, and helped his arm through it. 

Luffy smiled, sniffing at the collar. “Smells like you.” 

Ace paused, nearly dropping the boxers and shorts he was carrying in his other hand. If his cheeks got any redder, Luffy would start thinking that he’d developed a fever. 

_Calm down,_ the older man glared into the mirror, thinking loudly to himself. _He says this kind of shit all the time. Stop reacting._

“Take a seat,” Ace pointed to the footstool. “I’m gonna help you put your boxers on.” He was glad that Luffy wasn’t enthusiastic enough to steal his underwear. 

“Okay!” 

And so the young brunette was dressed. “Great,” Ace muttered, appraising the teen. He seemed neat and clean enough. “Are you ready for some physical therapy exercises?” 

The teen’s face fell. 

“Aaace,” Luffy whinged. “I’m _hungry.”_

“You’re always hungry. If I fed you every time you said you were hungry, this city would have a food shortage.” He’d only eaten with the teen for two weeks, but it felt like they’d gone through two month’s worth of meals. “It’s just some stretches, come on.” 

“Aaaaace…” 

“I’ll make an extra serving of bacon for breakfast, how about that.” 

Luffy’s eyes shined, and he followed the older man out to the living room. Ace sighed— 

—And then gasped. 

_“Izo?”_

The man glanced up at him, from his seat on the living room’s couch. 

“Good morning, Ace,” he replied. Then he glanced to the teen, commenting, “Hello, Luffy! Cute shirt you’re wearing.” Izo gave a knowing smirk. 

“Thanks! It’s Ace’s.” 

“Oh, I realized,” the older man retorted. Ace’s jaw dropped, and the blush returned to his cheeks at full force. “Also, you look like shit, Ace. Why don’t we talk about that while Luffy takes a backseat in the bedroom.” 

A pause sank into the room.

“What?” Ace replied, still in the clutches of embarrassment. 

Izo rolled his eyes, and tried to give the most suggestive look he could. “Why don’t we _talk,_ Ace. While Luffy takes a backseat in the bedroom. It’ll be quick.”

The young commander’s eyes widened. “Oh. _Oh.”_ He glanced over at the teen. “Uh, yeah. Let’s do that. Luffy, can you…” he pointed at the bedroom door. “I’ll make breakfast right after, I promise.” 

The teen frowned slightly, but excused himself. “See ya.”

Ace turned back, staring down at the older commander. They waited till the bedroom door closed, and the brunette began to speak. “What the hell, Izo. How long have you been waiting here? I didn’t even know you had the keys to this place.” 

The older man smiled. “I’ve been here for like, an hour. I didn’t know you and Luffy slept together.” He had an innocent expression, as if he hadn’t taken that information entirely the wrong way. “And you _shower_ with him? And he wears _your_ t-shirts?” 

“There is a nonsexual explanation for all of this,” Ace stammered.

“Oh, I’m sure there is. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed it, too. Does the fact that you look like you haven’t slept for 24 hours have something to do with Luffy, too? Because you really do look like you haven’t slept for 24 hours.” 

“Izo, you can’t possibly have waited an hour just to speculate on my non-existent love life.” 

“I definitely didn’t plan to! But you just keep giving me more to speculate on.” Izo laughed. “Come, sit down.” 

Ace felt a harrowing amount of emotions whir through his brain. He settled down on the couch, barely looking at the other man. “So, what are you here for, then? Do you have any news about…”

“I do,” Izo replied. 

He leaned in, with a hushed tone. “We have reason to believe that Teach may have sold information to the FBI. Identities, business operations, locations of some of our warehouses, and so on.” 

“The _FBI?”_ Ace hissed. “What the hell? What kind of incentive could they have given him?” 

“We don’t know yet. Honestly, I don’t think whatever deal he had with the FBI was… Official.”

Izo pursed his lips. “In fact, I think this might be a personal deal, under the table. Jozu beat the hell out of an undercover operative the other day, you should have seen it. We’re keeping the guy alive, but he’s different from the others. Only reports to one person.” 

“What do you mean?” 

The older commander settled down, explaining the works. “Most undercover agents are supported by a team, and they report back to intel.” Ace nodded, following along. “This guy is trained like an FBI agent, but we’ve only managed to tie him exclusively to one person. No informants, no intel team, it’s almost like he’s completely alone.”

“Almost.” 

Izo nodded. “Exactly. We don’t even know who the person is, but it’s obvious that no one else’s involved. And Jozu hasn’t gotten a word out of the agent.” He paused, smirking slightly. “I think when agents are that tenacious, Jozu finds it hard to keep beating on them. He just starts feeling bad.”

Ace laughed. “I’d feel bad, too, if I were him. That dude probably looks like shit right about now.” 

The older man smiled briefly, though his look was swiftly replaced with one of concern. “Yeah, and so do you. What’s happening, Ace? Marco mentioned earlier that you were bothered by something.” He narrowed his eyes. “And you haven’t texted anyone for like, three days.”

 _Whoops,_ Ace thought. 

“Uh,” he muttered. 

“If you’re about to lie to me,” Izo warned, “Just know that I could pull off a lie far better than you ever could. Sincerity is your forte.” 

The young brunette pursed his lips. 

“Well, Ace?” 

The man sighed, and began what was becoming a repetitive speech. “...Long story short, I’m going fucking nuts.”

* * *

Zoro went into a kitchen supply store. 

Admittedly, he did this out of spite. He and Sanji really had no reason to be engaged in as much vitriol as they were, but they had the sort of irritation-at-first-sight chemistry that was usually only reserved for starstruck couples, if those couples were fated for divorce. 

“Can I get your three best kitchen knives,” He demanded, at the cashier. 

“Sure!” The man at the counter replied. “We’ve got a few sets, actually. This is a trio meant for seafood, and those are our topseller knives for prime cuts—”

“Give me your sharpest knives.”

“My sharpest? Well, I have this set! It’s an expensive Japanese import but the blades rarely ever go dull on you—”

“Can I get three of just the big one?” Zoro pointed at the comically large knife in the set. 

The cashier paused. “...Three of just the big one? Sir, this is a set of 5. I’m afraid I don’t sell ‘just’ the big o—”

“I’d like the three big ones,” Zoro insisted, glaring at the man. 

“Sir, I don’t sell individual knives from this set.” 

“I want the three big ones.” 

“You don’t— You don’t even have three hands. Why do you need three of the same knife?”

Zoro took two more of the import sets off the shelf, plopping them onto the counter. “How much.” 

The cashier went silent. Zoro leaned in on the counter, close enough to see the sweat begin to sheen on the man’s forehead. “How much for the knives.” 

“200,” the cashier blurted. “And you’re taking the whole set. I can’t sell it otherwise.” 

* * *

30 minutes later, Ace had wrapped up most of what he could manage to tell Izo, which was not very much. Any more rambling and the man risked sounding incoherent. 

“Are you sure you aren’t just having extremely vivid and interesting fantasies?” Izo asked, blinking. “Mixed with a little bit of... Paranoia?” 

Ace screamed quietly into his own mouth. “I was completely willing to accept that maybe yesterday.” 

“Oh? What changed?” 

“Oh my God,” Ace muttered, coming to terms with the fact that this would make him sound insane. “Okay, so, today. Today, when I undressed Luffy before his shower.” 

Izo smirked. “This conversation is taking an interesting turn.”

“I was changing his bandages!” Ace huffed. “Anyway, I never really caught this detail before, but today I saw a mark on his chest. It’s almost like a scar, but it’s very subtle and you have to look carefully to see it.” 

The older commander laughed. “Well, how _carefully_ were you looking?” 

Ace flushed a bright red. He stammered on, continuing. “Whatever. It’s like, this X shape along his chest, right? And I reached out to touch it, and Luffy gasped all of a sudden and backed away.” 

He paused, realizing that the older man might not understand the implication of that statement. 

“Luffy has never recoiled from my touch,” Ace explained. “Like, even when his back is turned towards me— I know what you’re thinking, Izo, and I don’t care— even when his back is turned, he doesn’t even flinch if I touch him. I could put a hand on his bullet wound and he probably wouldn’t mind. So it’s _weird,_ okay?” 

The older commander looked as if he was trying very hard not to cackle. “Maybe he’s ticklish. Maybe you should try a gentle caress next time. A massage. Some men are sensitive, you know?” 

Ace buried his head in his palms. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” 

“I’m kidding! Come on, continue. What’s going on?” 

The brunette sighed, heavily. “After I tried to touch him, I remembered something from my dream last night.” He turned towards Izo, praying that the man would understand just how maddening this all was. 

“This was the dream where Luffy was a firefighter, by the way.” 

“Ah, a firefighter and a fire fist. Match made in hell, I guess.” 

Ace groaned. “Are you _done?”_

Izo snorted loudly in response, but waved for him to continue. 

_“Anyway,_ in the dream, he’d just graduated from the fire academy. And I was there for the whole graduation ceremony—,” Izo cooed, “—Yes, yes, I was there and I was taking pictures and everything. And I came up to Luffy and I asked him why he’d wanted to be a firefighter.” 

The brunette leaned in. “And he told me that he’d lost his most precious person in a fire. He was looking at me with these... These eyes, when he’d said it. Like he was looking right through me. He was touching his own chest, tracing that same X pattern. I swear to God, I saw him trace it.” 

He dropped back into the sofa, harrowed by the weight of the dream. “Now that I’ve said all this, I’m certain that it’s a scar.” 

Izo stared at the younger man, absorbing the information slowly. 

When he gathered his own thoughts, he gently asked, “Do you believe in past lives?” 

Ace glanced back, eyes wide. _What?_

“Do… Do I? I don’t know. Do you?” 

The older commander chuckled. “I don’t know if I do, but it’s a huge theme in eastern culture. My parents always told me that if I wasted food in this life, I’d starve for it in my next. It’s not exactly a religious belief or anything, but it’s ingrained into me.” 

“Well, Luffy’s never wasted food in any of his lifetimes,” Ace remarked under his breath. Izo laughed outright. 

“I’m not going to lie,” the older man commented. “I think it’d be so sweet if you guys were star-crossed souls or something. Have you ever thought that maybe the reason you’re having these dreams is because they’re memories?” 

“Well, yeah, that occurred to me. But what I don’t get is why they’re happening right _now._ Marco said it could be because of Luffy, but, that’s just fucking weird.” 

Izo cocked his head. He gave the younger man a considering stare. “Is it, though?” 

“...What do you mean?” 

“Well, a memory is tricky. Sometimes you trigger a memory just by falling into a deeply ingrained habit.” 

“A _habit?”_

Izo nodded. “Perhaps you’ve spent many lifetimes sleeping by Luffy’s side.” 

The words felt too sudden, as though they would overwhelm Ace with their implications alone. “Do you… Do you think so?” He asked, now feeling quite vulnerable. 

“I’m not the one who can answer that.” Izo leaned up, out of his seat. He patted the younger man on the back. “Anyway, I’ve talked about everything I’ve wanted to talk about. You go and have breakfast with your darling soulmate.” 

* * *

About 20 minutes later, Ace had gotten busy with cooking an unhealthy portion of bacon. His mind was occupied with dozens of other things, but he found the habit of cooking to be a welcome distraction. 

He realized, after about 15 finished slices of bacon and 5 to 6 scrambled eggs, that Luffy would have definitely crawled over to the kitchen by now. 

Ace frowned, turning the stove’s flame off. He put a cover over the griddle, and wandered over to the bedroom door. 

“Luffy?” He called, opening the door. 

The teen was laying on the bed, vigorously texting someone with a wide grin on his face. He didn’t even seem to hear the commander walk in. 

“...Luffy?” Ace repeated, folding his arms. “Who are you texting? That better not be Izo.” 

The teen glanced up, eyes wide. He quickly shut his phone, grinning shyly. “No.”

Ace stalked over. “Well? Who is it,” he muttered, trying to get a good look. Luffy shied away, tilting the screen from the commander’s eyes. Ace stared blankly at the teen. “...Are you trying to _hide_ something from me?” 

“...No,” Luffy replied, terrible-liar expression returning. 

“You’re full of secrets today,” Ace retorted, climbing onto the bed. He grabbed at the teen’s arm, but Luffy slipped away like a wet noodle. “Come on, who is it? What’s the big deal,” Ace pressed. 

“It’s nothing!” Luffy replied, grinning. “Let’s eat breakfast, Ace.” 

The commander laughed, and swiped for the phone again. “Who are you texting?” He repeated. “Jozu? Vista?” Ace dragged him over by the leg, but Luffy quickly slid out of his grip. 

“God damn, you’re like fucking... _Slime,”_ The older brunette commented, crawling over the pillows and blankets. Luffy was outright laughing now, just barely escaping his grasp. Granted, Ace was making sure to be extra gentle with the teen, in case he jostled the wounded shoulder. 

“What’s the big secret, Luffy? Tell me,” Ace demanded. 

“Tell me why you’re looking so shitty lately,” Luffy retorted, sticking out his tongue. 

The commander barked a laugh. “Oh, so that’s how we’re playing.” 

He grabbed the teen by the waistband of his shorts, physically dragging him across the bed. “See if you can get out of this, you little shit.” And Ace sat on him. 

“That’s not fair!” Luffy crowed, from beneath him. He stretched out his arm, phone dangling precariously behind the bed frame. 

Ace paused, hovering over the young brunette.

He had a hand on Luffy’s chest, pressing the teen into the bed, lingering on the scar. 

The older man glanced down, then, and he truly _saw_ the other, realizing the unseemly nature of their position. It felt like slow-motion, but the mood changed in a matter of moments. 

“...Ace?” Luffy murmured, eyes wide. 

The man’s throat went dry. His hand drifted over the marks of the scar, delicately tracing along Luffy’s chest. He watched the teen’s skin prickle, and found himself mesmerized by the small change. _He's so warm,_ Ace thought, drifting towards the center of the mark.

Luffy let out a subtle sigh, as though he'd tried to speak but could not find the words. The teen’s cheeks began to flush, expression growing more uncertain— Ace only caught on because he was watching intently. 

_Have we done this before?_ Ace wondered, privately. _Is this 'familiar?'_

In those moments, the teen forgot about the phone, tilting it just enough for the older man to see. 

Ace’s eyes widened, and he almost _yelled._ “You’re texting my fucking _pops?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh!!! this chapter had so much acelu content!! im so happy _(:3」∠)_
> 
> i actually had to split the events of this day into two chapters, because soooo much happens. i decided to cut it right here where the romance sort of starts (〃▽〃) i promise im slowly getting to the smut LOL
> 
> also! the whole 'firefighter' thing was influenced by the fact that oda said that would be luffy's profession, if he wasnt a pirate. thought that was a cool detail (´∀`)


	8. Merely To Reminisce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy and Whitebeard find common ground.

After twenty or so minutes of sitting in the bedroom, Luffy grew bored of waiting on the two commanders to finish speaking. 

He pursed his lips, collapsing back into the bed. The teen craned his neck, glancing at the burner phone charging next to him. There was one notification; a text. 

He reached over, unplugging the phone. It was the first time this number had texted him. The caller ID was saved as ‘old man’, a choice that Luffy had consciously made, despite Ace’s protests. He grinned. 

Opening the notification, he read: _“Gomu Gomu no…”_

Luffy’s grin threatened to split his cheeks. He stared at his phone for a few good moments, before shittily typing an enthusiastic _“pISTOLLLLLLL”_ back. 

Another silent moment passed. Luffy’s legs swung excitedly at the edge of the bed, and he waited. 

_“Gurarara”_ was the next text, followed by: _“You haven’t changed at all, kid.”_

The teen smiled, typing, _“u too ol man.”_

_“Brat!!”_

_“snior citzn!!!”_

_“I’m the strongest senior citizen in the world!”_

_“LOL n im th pirate king”_

A pause. Luffy watched the clock tick away, in the corner of his screen. A minute or two passed, before he finally got another reply: _“I knew you would be.”_

The teen snickered. 

_“You and Roger, little bastards. There’s a pattern there somewhere.”_

Another moment passed, and Whitebeard asked, _“Do you think Ace remembers? Marco said something interesting the other day.”_

Luffy hummed, leaning back in the bed. He recognized the look in the commander’s eyes, though Ace seemed to be in too great of a personal turmoil to say anything to his face. _“idk. theres a lot 2 rmmber”_

_“Son, you need to go back to school and take an English class.”_

_“:P :P :P”_

_“How much do you remember?”_

The teen paused. He contemplated the matter, and replied, _“a lot.”_

_“How many lifetimes?”_

Luffy drifted, staring at the ceiling. From his youth, he’d had dozens upon dozens of dreams. It was as though he’d been born into this life merely to reminisce, with no other purpose. 

_“too many”_ he typed, finally. _“an u?”_

_“Every year that passes, I remember more. I remember my sons and daughters the most.”_

The teen hesitated. _“teach?”_

_“Yes. I remembered Teach.”_

Another minute passed before Newgate continued. 

_“In my heart, I believe I ultimately forgave him... I took that sentiment into this life, I think. I only remembered what he’d done, once he’d done it again.”_

_“It pains me, honestly. Some days I wonder if I will have another chance at life, and whether I should just begrudge him in my next. Perhaps this is a karmic lesson.”_

The teen shook his head. _“u dont need a lesson”_ he replied, easily. _“he does.”_

A momentary pause. The next message from Newgate was a long bout of laughter, and, _“How reassuring! I hope that in my next life, I meet you before I meet Teach.”_

Luffy smiled in earnest, staring fondly at the screen. 

He’d crossed paths with Newgate in a couple lifetimes, as it seemed inevitable when one was in close association with Ace. This was one of the rare occasions in which they both remembered their shared histories, and the teen felt lucky for it.

_“How did you save Ace so suddenly, anyway? That seemed uncanny.”_

The brunette hummed, thinking on his answer. He decided to admit the truth. 

_“lookd 4 him. found out abt ur gang lol”_

_“You looked for him?”_

_“evry nite”_ the teen elaborated. _“ace dies young.”_

Silence. 

Luffy waited, hoping he hadn’t scared the man away. Not that Whitebeard was the type to be scared so easily. 

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“4 wht?”_

_“You’re too young to fret over my idiot son. That’s my job.”_

_“ur too old to deal w him :P”_

_“I take back my apology, brat.”_ Luffy laughed, giggling just quietly enough so that Izo and Ace wouldn’t overhear. _“But for your sake, I hope Ace remembers. He’ll regret forgetting, gurarara…”_

_“i still luv him even if he dosnt remmber :)”_

_“The highest form of love is unconditional love, so they say.”_

“...Luffy?” 

The teen glanced up from his phone. Ace was standing at the bedroom door, arms folded sternly. “Who are you texting?” The man raised a brow. “That better not be Izo.” 

The young brunette smiled, shutting off his phone. “No,” he denied, though he hid the phone’s screen just in case. 

Despite this, or perhaps _because_ of this, Ace pried, wandering over to the bed. “Who is it?” he asked again, leaning against the mattress. 

Luffy pulled away, tucking the phone out of sight. Ace had an incredulous look, reaching for the teen’s good hand. 

“...Are you trying to _hide_ something from me?” 

“...No,” the teen answered, as neutral as possible. He knew how poorly that had gone, when in the next moment, the commander was on the bed, demanding to hear his secret. 

They fumbled around in a manner that Luffy dearly recognized. He giggled, feeling the advantage of sheer memory sweep over him. After so many years of play-wrestling with the man, the teen could close his eyes and do this in his sleep. 

Until Ace dragged him by the waist, and _sat_ on him. 

“That’s not fair!” Luffy cried, wriggling. The man set a hand on his chest, holding him down. “You’re cheating—,” the teen exclaimed, stretching his arm back as far as it could go, “—Get off me!” 

Ace was silent. 

Luffy’s protests died, somewhere in the back of his mouth. He looked back up, eyes wide. 

“...Ace?” 

No reply. 

Luffy watched, in strange suspense, as Ace’s eyes drifted down and locked sights on his faded scar. 

The teen felt the commander’s hand shift, then. It trailed along his chest, stroking the familiar patch of skin that had been marred so long ago. Luffy’s eyes followed those drifting fingers, and he felt his entire body shudder, goosebumps prickling as though he’d jumped into freezing waters. 

He glanced up from that hand and stared at Ace, who was watching him ever so closely. 

The teen tried to speak. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His head started to spin, memories whirring one after another, over and over. He searched for a point of reference, from any lifetime, _anything_ at all—

 _Nothing,_ Luffy realized. 

Ace had never looked at him like this before. 

Then the man leaned in, so subtly that the teen almost missed it. Luffy felt his body tremble under Ace’s grasp, and his mind blanked. A moment later, the phone nearly slipped out of his hand. 

“You’re texting my fucking _pops?!”_ Ace yelled.

“No!” Luffy yelled back. The teen snapped up and nearly knocked the older man over. His heart was still pounding, like he’d just finished the last mile of a marathon. 

“You are!” Ace insisted. “I saw it!” He pointed incriminatingly at the phone. “You still have him saved as _‘old man’?!_ I told you to change his nickname!” 

“But he’s an old man!” Luffy wailed, clinging to his phone. 

Ace huffed, loudly. “So you admit you’re texting him, then!” 

The teen’s face burned red. 

He puffed his cheeks, sealing his lips together. Every lifetime, Luffy made another fresh attempt at dishonesty, and every lifetime, it failed him just as often. He opted for silence. 

Ace shook his head. 

“I can’t believe you. Did my pops tell you not to tell me, or something? You were being so stubborn about it.” 

Luffy kept his mouth shut, glaring petulantly at the man. 

The commander glanced at his expression. 

They stared each other down. A minute or two must have passed, until Ace began to chuckle. “You look ridiculous right now, Luffy.” 

He eased up, sliding off of the teen’s lap. The man stretched his shoulders out, and motioned for the teen to follow him. “You know what? I’m not even mad,” he concluded, shrugging.

“You’re not?” Luffy asked, getting up slowly. _Then what are you?_ He wondered, in his head. 

“No, no,” Ace replied. “Just, very surprised. Confused, I guess.” He turned towards the teen, staring him down. 

It was another ‘first’ in Luffy’s personal records. 

It was the first time he felt the difference in their heights; the distance between their eyes. He stared blankly at the older man, only remembering to speak when far too much silence had passed. 

“...You’re not gonna ask what we talked about?” 

Ace smiled. “You can keep your secrets. It is just my pops, after all.” 

“Besides,” he continued, drifting off. “You looked so happy.” 

Just like that, the commander left the room. 

Luffy felt very much like he didn’t fully understand what had transpired between them. 

“Come on, the food’s getting cold. And don’t think I forgot about the physical therapy stretches!” Ace called, from the living room. 

* * *

Zoro had his arms wrapped in bandages, tied tight along the knuckles, just in case he had to use his fists. He flexed his arm, watching the fabric shift against his muscles. The green-haired man found himself pleased with his work. 

Then, the knives. He hadn’t done this in a long time, but Zoro was confident in his muscle memory. He armed himself, tucking one kitchen knife between his teeth, and the other two in his palms. 

He took an appraising glance into the reflection of a storefront’s glass wall. A pedestrian on the sidewalk stared at him, and consciously avoided crossing paths. Zoro frowned. 

He tucked the knives away, realizing that he would probably be arrested on the spot if a cop drove by him. 

Now, to find the Whitebeards. 

_This is easy,_ Zoro thought. _I grew up in this city. I can’t possibly fuck this up._

* * *

“Buggy,” one of the masked henchmen muttered, “Do we have to wear this? It’s kind of hard to see in—”

“What did you just call me?” Buggy snapped. “I answer to captain. Hell, even _sir_ is better. Don’t bark my name like a damned dog.” 

“S—sir… It’s kind of hard to see in these masks.” The man pointed to the tiny eyeholes of the clown masks that the team had donned. “Can we really rob an amusement park like this?” 

Another henchman scoffed. “Obviously not,” he muttered, under his breath. “This guy watched The Dark Knight once and now he thinks he’s the fucking Joker.”

“The only joker here is you,” the captain retorted. “And if you don’t like my sense of humor, you can die irritated about it. We are not going to have boring escapades like regular criminals. I’m making a _statement.”_

“We live in a society,” yet another henchman whispered. That was the breaking point for the team, and they all busted into laughter. 

Buggy grit his teeth. 

He took out his glock and shot a bullet in the air. The team got the message, and shut the hell up. 

“I will shoot you to high hell if you screw this up.” The man squinted at everyone, searching for any signs of disobedience. “Anyway. This is the motherfucking plan. We are going to go in today, while—”

The door to their warehouse banged open. 

“—Who the _fuck_ do you think you…” Buggy drifted off, staring at the man who interrupted him. This was not one of his henchmen. “...Who the fuck _are_ you?” 

It was a green-haired man, armed with three kitchen knives. 

“...Who th fhk ar yew?” He mumbled, through the handle of one of his knives. The man looked genuinely confused, a feeling which the captain parroted. 

“...What?” Buggy muttered, hand on his glock. His henchmen smartened up, reaching for their guns as well. 

The man squinted at them, and briefly took the knife out of his mouth. “You’re not the Whitebeards,” he stated, quite obviously.

Buggy wasn’t sure why he hadn’t shot the man yet. Perhaps it was the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “No shit, we’re not the Whitebeards. What’s wrong with you? Were you about to go up against the Whitebeards with _three kitchen knives?”_

The man’s confused expression morphed into a rather intimidating glare. It would have worked better if he had something like a machine gun in his hand. 

“And if I was?” he retorted. 

The henchmen cackled. Buggy laughed, too. “Well! You’re a special kind of idiot, but that’s flashy, I’ll give you that!” 

The green-haired man narrowed his eyes. He tucked the kitchen knife back into his mouth, stalking over as though he actually planned to fight them all. 

“Ooooh,” Buggy cooed, waving his gun in the air. “How scary. Watch out guys, kitchen knife man is comin’ to get ya.” 

* * *

Luffy and Ace spent the whole day circling around each other.

That was the only way Ace could describe it, personally. 

It became clear that the teen was ruminating over some matter, stealing glances at him from time to time, spending longer periods in silence. In other moments, Luffy was glued to his phone, texting with a wide grin on his face. Ace’s curiosity was killing him, but he let the teen have his privacy. 

It irked him, though. They settled on the couch for the night, and Luffy had begun to blatantly ignore his own phone. Ace knew that it was purely because at this angle, he’d be able to see the texts, too. 

_What the hell could you be telling my pops?_ He wondered, quietly. 

After an awkward moment where Ace stared blankly at his own phone, he finally picked up the remote and turned the TV on. “Wanna watch something?” He asked, staring at the teen. 

Luffy looked back at him. He shrugged, feet kicking side to side. “Okay.” 

So Ace started flipping through the channels, waiting for the teen to stop him at some particular show. They went through a handful of commercials, before Luffy stopped him on the news. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” the teen grabbed his hand. Ace glanced at him. “The channel just now,” he looked anxiously at the screen. 

“This one?” The commander flipped back, still looking at Luffy’s hand on his. 

“Yes!” Luffy sat back, jaw dropped. “That’s my cre— neighbor!” 

_“What?”_ Ace intoned, incredulous. 

The headline said something about a ‘Kitchen Knife Man’, and it showed a collection of mugshots that Ace recognized as Buggy the Clown, and the pitiful assholes that worked under him. The news reporter began her account of the day’s events:

 _“Today we have quite the headline! In a wild return to the bounty-hunting golden days, a civilian armed with three kitchen knives_ _—_ , _that’s right, one was in his mouth_ _—, turned in the entirety of the Buggy gang.”_

They flashed a photo of Buggy in his current state; he looked physically and emotionally desolate. 

_“This is particularly shocking when you hear that the gang was armed with a variety of guns, and allegedly planned to terrorize an amusement park on the same day. I can’t imagine what went on in that warehouse.”_

Luffy bursted into a peal of laughter. “Classic Zoro.” 

Ace squinted at the screen. There was a mildly blurry CCTV video, showing a green-haired man holding three knives, dragging unconscious bodies out of a warehouse. “Holy shit, Luffy. That’s your _neighbor?_ I’m about to recruit him.”

The reporter continued, smiling incredulously, _“Upon further investigation, it seems that our Kitchen Knife Man actually stumbled upon the Buggies by accident. Which begs the question; what was he planning to do with those knives in the first place?”_ She gave a nervous chuckle. 

The teen sat up in his seat. 

“Wait,” he muttered, eyes wide. “Ace, do you know where that warehouse is?” 

The commander shrugged blankly. “Uhh…” 

He pulled up his phone, looking for the address online. “Oh, that’s funny, now that you mention it.” Ace flashed his screen towards the teen. “It’s almost perfectly in the opposite direction of our apartment.” 

Luffy gasped. 

“Zoro’s looking for us,” he determined, with complete certainty. 

“... In the _opposite_ direction?” 

The teen nodded. “Exactly.” 

* * *

“I can’t fucking believe you,” Sanji yelled, outside of Baratie. 

Zoro was standing with his arms folded on the sidewalk, with a blank expression like he’d done nothing wrong.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Kitchen knives? You’re a god-damned disgrace,” the blonde continued. 

Usopp’s jaw dropped. “Are we not going to talk about how he took down a whole gang with knives?” 

“Who _cares!_ I could take down a gang with my legs,” Sanji retorted. “That’s not the fucking problem here. Don’t you work at a dojo? Why the hell couldn’t you get an actual weapon? Like a sword or something,” he muttered. 

“They don’t make samurai swords in this city,” Zoro replied, with no small amount of irritation. 

“Then get a god-damned machete off the black market! Those kitchen knives are expensive, and they deserve respect.” 

The blonde huffed angrily, pulling out a map from his jacket pocket. “And not to mention, where the hell were you going? Weren’t you looking for Luffy?” 

Zoro’s cheeks flushed. “No, I was just trying to make some quick cash. The cops gave me good money for those guys.” Though the precinct had trouble deciding whether or not they should arrest Zoro himself, as well.

Sanji glared at him.

He opened up the map. “I never needed a map of this city until I met you, Zoro. I’m going to mock you forever.” The blonde pointed at one spot on the paper. “You see that? That’s the warehouse you went to today.” 

The green haired man nodded, staring at the map like it was a math equation. 

Sanji moved his finger, gracing a long length of the map, in the opposite direction of that warehouse. “And _this_ is Whitebeard’s general territory. You fucking see that? Look with your eyes, Zoro.” 

“...What?” the man muttered, squinting at the distance. “That’s three miles away.” 

Sanji sighed. “You know where your apartment is?” 

“Of— Of course I do,” Zoro retorted, nervously. 

“Where’s your apartment.” 

The green haired man went silent. 

He gave the map a long, considering look. 

Usopp’s jaw dropped, and the teen seemed to be holding back laughter.

“My apartment…” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“It’s… here?” Zoro pointed, hesitantly. 

“No,” Sanji retorted. 

“You didn’t even look at where I pointed!” 

“I don’t need to,” the blonde scoffed. “I know you’re wrong.” He tapped a completely different spot on the map, reading out the street address. “This is where you live, you imbecile. You see where I pointed? You remember anything I showed you earlier, Zoro?” 

The green haired man stared at the map in alarm. “Wait.” 

_“Yeah,_ Zoro?” 

“Wait, didn’t you say Whitebeard’s territory was…” 

Usopp glanced at the paper. He gasped. “You live like, ten blocks away!” The teen exclaimed. “Holy shit, it’s like, a straight line down.” 

Zoro was dumbstruck, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“It has to be a fifteen minute walk, max,” the brunette continued. Sanji smiled in petty satisfaction. 

“Congratulations, idiot,” the blonde muttered, tucking the map away. “You couldn’t even march into Whitebeard’s territories properly. I can’t believe you tried to act by yourself.”

Zoro flushed, a mix of embarrassed and angry. “Did you get Usopp to call me over just so you could lecture me?” 

Sanji grit his teeth. “Unfortunately, no. I’m telling you that you shouldn’t act by yourself.” He raised a suggestive brow. “You’re listening, right?” 

Zoro paused. “What, are you saying you want to work with me?” 

The blonde tapped his foot, taking a puff out from his cigarette. Usopp looked between them. 

The green haired man squinted. “Can you even fight?” He asked, skeptical. 

Sanji grimaced. “Who gives a shit about being able to fight when you can’t even locate your enemy?” He stared pointedly at the other man. 

“Wait, guys,” Usopp intercepted. “You two don’t plan to storm in and…” 

Zoro and Sanji gave him a deadpan stare. “What the hell do you think we’re doing?” 

The brunette stuttered nervously. “Wait, wait, wait, wait… Sh—Shouldn’t we tell the cops? Or like, call up everyone else?” He pulled out his phone, but Sanji wrung it out of his hands. 

“No!” He rejected, quickly. “Leave the girls out of this. I have a lead, but if I’m right, this is going to get dangerous.” 

“You do?” Zoro asked. “Why didn’t you mention that earlier?” 

Sanji flushed, coughing nervously. 

In all honesty, he’d forgotten. 

“Okay,” the blonde began. “So, in my defense, this was such a small detail…” 

Zoro rolled his eyes. 

“But, Luffy was the first person to start ordering steak with mashed potatoes from Baratie.” 

“...Okay?” 

“We don’t do mashed potatoes. This is a French restaurant, not a fucking diner. However, Luffy always mashed the herb-roasted potatoes with a fork, which was disgusting, so I just gave up and mashed them myself.” It was also a great way to repurpose potatoes from customers who didn’t finish the sides. Not that Sanji would admit to such unsanitary practices.

The green haired man scoffed. “You cave so easily to him? No willpower.” 

“Shut up, will you?” Sanji retorted. “Anyway, ‘steak and mashed potatoes’ sort of became a secret menu item, and some other regulars started ordering it from time to time.” Patty had given him a lot of shit over it.

“Where are you going with this?” Zoro chimed, brow raised.

“I’m saying that recently, some guy has been coming in and ordering Luffy’s dish, but I didn’t think twice because I thought he heard about it from some other customer.”

Sanji leaned in, looking between the two. “And the owner, Zeff? He was a gangster back in the day, but that’s a long story for another time. He recognizes this guy.” 

“Zeff was a _gangster?”_ Usopp asked, incredulously. 

Sanji’s brow crinkled. “Isn’t it obvious? How else would he own a restaurant in this city.” 

“Wait,” Zoro interrupted. “So who’s the guy?” 

Sanji whipped out his phone, typing in a Google search. He pulled up an old photo of a blonde man who sort of looked like a surfer. “The first commander of the Whitebeards, Marco. He always gets at least five orders of steaks, so I know he’s getting it for Luffy.” 

Zoro stared at the photo, committing it to memory. 

“Okay,” he nodded, now quite determined. “So we have to find him.” 

Usopp had a pale look of fright. “He’s… the first commander of the _Whitebeards,”_ the teen wailed. 

Sanji and Zoro glanced over at the poor brunette. “...You stay back and wait, or something.” 

* * *

Somewhere, fifteen or twenty blocks away, Marco sneezed. 

Whitebeard glanced up. “Are you sick, kid?” 

“No, I’m fine,” the blonde assured. 

“When are you going to go home and sleep in for a change?” The old man continued. “You’re going to get sick eventually, if you keep this up.” One would have thought that the blonde was a homeless freeloader on Newgate’s couch. 

Marco laughed. “Nothing can keep me down.” 

“What, are you _that_ curious? You have to watch me all night, too?” The blonde had spent the whole day there, pretending to read a book while glancing over at the old man. 

“You know, we did just find out that Teach might be selling us out to the FBI. Maybe I’m just worried to death, and I can’t let my pops leave my sight.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

Marco snorted. “You don’t seem worried at all, pops.” In fact, Whitebeard had spent all day looking suspiciously happy. He’d had one hand on his phone, and another hand on the papers, a book, a glass of whiskey, whatever struck the old man’s mood. 

Newgate smiled. “Should I be worried?” 

Marco sat up in his chair. “Are you texting Luffy?” He asked, abruptly. “It’s Luffy, isn’t it.” 

Whitebeard paused, looking him over. “You’re still trying to figure this out?” 

The blonde had spent the day watching him text gleefully, knowing full well that the old man barely interacted with the damned phone to begin with. He’d subtly pestered Newgate, but the man was tightlipped on the matter. 

“You’re texting him,” Marco realized. In all honesty, he’d thought of this possibility a few hours ago, but he hadn’t voiced it. 

“You didn’t say no,” he interjected, before Whitebeard could respond. 

Marco leaned his head in his palm, giving the man a considering stare. “First Ace, now you…” He murmured, under his breath. “What an interesting kid he must be.” 

Newgate grinned. That was an answer, in and of itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe it... i have never uploaded chaps within 5 days of eachother... im writing so fast (Ｔ▽Ｔ) 
> 
> i havent written luffys perspective for a while, and i have to say that it was very entertaining to write the same scene from two dif viewpoints ٩(^ᴗ^)۶ so much happens in this chap, i hope yall arent overwhelmed ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> unrelated but i feel like i wrote a scenario where ace has become inadvertently jealous of his own pops and i feel WEIRD


	9. Freudian Slip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace spends an entire chapter in mental agony.

“So, are we just gonna search around randomly for Marco or…” Zoro trailed off, raising a brow at the blonde. 

“Oh,” Sanji uttered, turning back. “No, we’re not searching for him today. I’m getting you proper weapons, and then tomorrow, I’m going to try a...Tactic, to find him.” 

“The kitchen knives work just fine.” 

“...Say that again and I’ll cook you with them.”

* * *

That night, Ace and Luffy occupied themselves with a mixture of small-talk about the Kitchen Knife Man (and other important figures in Luffy’s life), and random TV shows that caught their eyes. It was an improvement from the somewhat-charged atmosphere that had taken over their day. 

They were watching a show that they loosely followed, as Luffy explained more segments of his childhood to the older man. 

“Zoro moved to that apartment when I started high school. It was actually the first place he rented by himself,” the teen explained. “And he’d treat me to food sometimes, and I’d walk him to the dojo that he works at.” 

Ace’s brow crinkled. “You’d walk him? You make him sound like a dog.” 

Luffy chuckled. “No, no! He gets lost easily. I think he still gets lost on the way to the dojo now.” 

“I see.” That explained the Buggy incident, then. 

“Ah,” the teen muttered, to himself. “I hope he hasn’t been getting extra-lost since I haven’t been around…” 

Ace glanced over at the brunette, hesitating. 

He waited a beat before asking, “Do you really like Zoro?” 

Luffy turned back, eyes flashing with the glow of the television screen. He had a smile on his face that seemed to be glittering with joy. “I don’t ‘really like’ him! I love him,” The teen announced.

The commander’s stomach did a strange twist. _Does he just love_ ** _everyone?_** Ace thought, unbidden. _Why do I care? Do I care?_

He pursed his lips, coil in his stomach turning tighter. Ace mentally reminded himself that jealousy was ugly, and furthermore, very stupid. Why would it even matter? He only knew Luffy for two months, ‘past lives’ or no. What was there to be stressed about? _Feelings?_ (And so Ace’s mental rant went.) 

The commander trained his eyes on the television, watching the main character spiral into some dramatic fight scene with the villain of the show. It wasn’t quite enough to retain his attention, however, because at some point he cracked and asked: 

“Luffy, who do you love more?” _God, damn it._

“Huh?” The teen uttered, glancing over. 

Ace paused, mentally grappling with himself. _Frame it as a joke, frame it as a joke…_

He smiled, though it felt more like an uncomfortable tug of the cheeks. “I’m just curious, since you said the same thing about me once,” Ace explained. Granted, Luffy was drunk then. “Who do you love more? Me, or Zoro?” 

The teen froze, staring at him. Ace caught it in his peripheral vision and braved a glance back, attempting a light-hearted expression. He failed. 

Luffy’s eyes seemed carefully blank. It was a look the older man had seen from time to time, when the teen was thinking quite hard on a matter, while appearing not to think at all. 

_Shit,_ Ace thought. 

“Does it matter?” The teen retorted, assessing him. 

_Yes,_ the commander’s mind replied. 

Ace chuckled. “...Not really?”

Luffy hummed in response. His face was vacant, and Ace wondered for a moment if he would completely ignore the question. 

The commander felt as though he was playing poker with the teen, and he’d just spilled his cards all over the table. Luckily, it seemed the action in the show was picking up, and he gladly let himself get absorbed into the episode again. 

A few minutes later, Luffy answered, “I don’t know.” 

“What?” Ace blinked, turning back. It took him a moment to process the response. “Oh.” 

Then he paused, shrugging. “Well, it was a dumb question anyw...” Ace drifted off, interrupted by a loud moan. 

The commander glanced back to the screen, mildly alarmed. The main character had finished their dramatic altercation, and was now making out with a hot love interest. 

Ace pursed his lips, debating between talking loudly over the scene or letting it run its course. He decided to bite the bullet and finish the scene.

A minute later, it did _not_ run its course. 

Clothes were falling to the floor, hands running along bodies, moans echoing and sighs drifting— 

_Oh, shit,_ Ace thought, in growing discomfort. _The director was horny._

The older brunette fought the urge to glance at the teen. He felt very much like he was twelve again, and something incriminating was playing on the screen while his mother was passing by. Inevitably, Ace failed, and he shot the subtlest possible look at Luffy. 

Like magnets, their eyes met. The man felt his own cheeks heat up in response. 

“Uh,” he blurted, mentally blanking. 

“Yeah?” The teen retorted, now looking at him quite curiously. 

Their voices seemed muted under the loud sexual declarations happening on-screen, and the seemingly louder sound of bodies rutting into each other. Ace felt distinctly like he was watching a porno. _When will this end?_ He cried, internally. 

“Do you want to change the channel?” The commander asked, suddenly. He reached a presumptive sweaty hand towards the remote. 

The teen cocked his head. Far from appearing affected, Luffy merely seemed bored. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” Ace stammered, hand retreating. “Nevermind, then.” 

“What?” Luffy asked, brows crinkling. The love interest had yelled something just as Ace had spoken. “Did you say something?” 

“No, I said, uh—,” Ace searched for some diversion, anything to get his mind off of the scene happening and the awkward feeling ensuing. He glanced away from the teen’s face, looking at that faded scar. _That scar._

_Luffy has a scar!_ Ace thought, suddenly. _Ask about fights!_

“—You ever fucked anyone, Luffy?” 

His eyes widened as he spoke, voice dying almost instantly after he’d finished the question. 

That was the worst Freudian slip Ace had ever uttered in his _entire_ life. The commander prayed to God that Luffy hadn’t heard that.

The teen turned towards him with a startled expression. Luffy looked at him for what felt like an agonizing hour, but was probably only a few seconds. _He heard me,_ Ace thought, in despair. _Of course he did._

In the poorest possible turn of events, the love interest had begun a breathless mantra of _“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me...”_ into the main character’s ear. What was the point of that, anyway? They were _already_ fucking. 

Regardless, the events rendered Ace completely mortified. Luffy was still staring at him. 

“...Why?” The teen asked, after a painful moment of silence (minus the TV; that thing was loud as hell). 

Ace realized he didn’t have a prepared answer, as he had not even prepared for that question. “Haha,” he coughed. “Just came to mind, I guess.” 

Luffy watched him closely, which was unnerving on its own, but paralyzing when the background noise consisted of loud sex. After a few moments, the teen asked, “Have you?” 

The older brunette’s stomach did a flip. “Me?” 

Luffy nodded. “Yeah.” 

Ace glanced at him, trying to get a read of the teen’s emotions. He got nothing. “Well, yeah,” the man replied, uneasy. “I fucked around a bit. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a relationship for more than a year, though.” 

“Girls?” Luffy asked, cocking his head. 

The one-word question suddenly felt quite loaded. 

Ace attempted to retain a nonchalant air. “...And guys,” he answered. “I like both.” He hesitated, throwing caution out of the window, along with dignity and tactfulness. “What about, uh, you? Do you like girls? ...Or guys?” 

Luffy stared at him again, eyes utterly unreadable. “It doesn’t really matter to me,” the teen replied, after a beat. 

Ace glanced away, hands wrung together. “Cool,” he retorted, eyes on the television. The sex scene was over, thank god. 

He paused. “Wait, so—, Have you? Fucked anyone, I mean.” If Ace was going to suffer the embarrassment of asking the question, he was at least going to get an answer. 

It was in his periphery, so the commander couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the teen’s lip quirk up. “Nope,” Luffy replied, after a suspenseful moment. “I haven’t.” 

The episode ended. 

Ace blankly watched a commercial. Then he blinked, leaned over, and started scrambling around for the remote. The commander got up from his seat and turned the television off. 

It was almost midnight, and he was mentally fried. “Let’s go to bed,” he muttered. 

Luffy gave him another curious stare. Ace felt a sudden need to clarify. “To sleep. Let’s sleep. I’m tired. It’s midnight.” 

The teen smiled in response. “Whatever you want, Ace.” 

The commander felt his cheeks burn, and he didn’t dare toss a backwards glance on the way to the bedroom.

* * *

The night passed turbulently. 

Luffy awoke the next morning, looking over towards the older man. Ace appeared to be restlessly dreaming, as he now often was. 

The teen frowned. He debated reaching out to the man, before getting distracted by a text. It was from Whitebeard, who had taken a great liking to having long text conversations with the teen. 

_“How’s Ace doing?”_

Luffy paused, mulling over a response. _“asleep. he looks stresed.”_

A minute or so passed. Whitebeard texted again; _“Stressed? I can only imagine what he’s dreaming about. Izo mentioned that Ace spoke about you yesterday.”_

_“me?”_

_“Yes, you. He said something about past lives.”_

The teen gasped, feeling tinges of excitement. Despite this, the emotion that won over was a nervous apprehension. If the bags under Ace’s eyes were any indication, the man was likely cycling through an endless nightmare of near death experiences. 

_“Notice anything different about him?”_

Luffy glanced over at the older man, wondering not for the first time what was the right choice of action. He pat a comforting hand on Ace's shoulder, watching in mild fascination as the commander began to calm down in his sleep. 

He returned to his phone after Ace had peacefully settled. Luffy mulled over the question. _"diffrnt??? yes"_

_"Oh? Is he closer to you, now that he might remember your shared past?"_

The teen paused, pursing his lips. When he said different, he meant _different._

_“......ace is bein weird lol"_

_"Weird?"_

_"weeeeeird..."_ Luffy repeated. 

_"Well, are you going to explain or what? Gurarara…"_

The teen frowned, slightly. He realized then, that this wasn't really a talk he wanted to have with anyone, especially not an old man. What would he even say? _'Ace is starting to look at me the way I look at a honey-glazed steak?'_

Luffy wondered, briefly, if his daily showering routine was about to get that much more interesting. He decided to put a cap on the matter, and replied, _"i dont feel like talkin bout it :P"_

_"I see how it is… Why bother mentioning it, then!"_

The teen chuckled. 

"Luffy?" Ace croaked, turning around in the bed. He opened a bleary eye, observing the teen on the phone. "You're awake?" Ace squinted, slowly shuffling off the blankets. "You're texting."

Luffy did not miss the more-than-mild intonation of curiosity. “I’m done texting,” he replied, with a smile. The teen shut off his phone. 

Ace frowned. The commander seemed quite tormented by this response. “...Right. What time is it…” 

It was 10 in the morning. Ace yawned, stretching his arms. “Shit, I overslept.” The look on his face did not match that statement; the commander’s eyebags were deeper than ever. He crawled miserably out of bed, leaning against the nightstand. “Let’s go… Uh, shower…” Ace drifted off, cheeks reddening. 

Luffy hummed, shooting him a dubious look. “Sure.”

* * *

“Okay, moss-head. Let’s do this.” Sanji whipped out his trusty map. 

Zoro was now armed with three machetes, all of which were ‘borrowed’ (stolen) from Zeff. Naturally, machetes were quite illegal to carry out in the city, so he had them stuffed in a big knapsack. 

“Did you just call me moss—”

“Unimportant,” Sanji interrupted. “Look carefully at this map. You already know where Whitebeard’s territory is.” He showed the man the selected area, which was fairly large grounds to cover. 

Zoro scratched his neck. “Yeah?”

Sanji narrowed his eyes. “Tell me your gut instinct on where you think Marco is. Don’t even think twice.” 

“What?” the swordsman stuttered. “But…” His cheeks reddened. “This better not be a joke.” Zoro glared down at the map, eyes roaming the street names. “Do you mean, like, a general area?” 

“Hurry up and point!” 

So he pointed. “There! I don’t fucking know!” 

Sanji whipped the map back towards himself, staring down at Zoro’s choice of placement. “Okay, okay. We can start from there. Let’s get going.” 

“But, I thought…” Zoro drifted off, following him. 

The blonde turned back towards him. He clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We’re not heading where you pointed, moss-head. We’re going in the opposite direction.” 

“What the hell?” Zoro snapped. “What kind of plan is that? There’s no way that’s going to work.” 

* * *

Ace gingerly peeled the t-shirt off of Luffy’s shoulders. He did it with minimal eye-contact, wondering to himself how they could lose all concept of innocence within a matter of days. The commander mourned the loss. 

“Uh,” he stuttered, shirt bundled in his hands. “You can take your pants off by yourself, yeah?” Luffy had done it a few times. He was just wearing baggy shorts, anyway. 

The teen hummed an agreement, unbuttoning himself with his good hand. 

Ace’s eyes drifted straight down, which was particularly embarrassing when he knew that Luffy had definitely caught him doing that. _Woah!_ The commander thought, forcefully shifting his gaze elsewhere. _Nope, that’s the mirror. Abort._ He tore his eyes off of their reflections, and safely settled on the ceiling. It was as blank as Ace wanted his thoughts to be. 

“Are you good, Ace?” Luffy asked. He handed the man his shorts and boxers. 

Ace was forced to look back, hands grabbing at the extra clothes. _He’s naked,_ the man’s brain supplied, uselessly. _Of course he’s naked, he’s about to take a shower. Are you a fucking idiot?_

“Uh, yeah,” the man choked. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

The teen peered at him, brow raised. “I’m getting in the shower now.”

Ace coughed. “Right.” He watched Luffy slide into the tub, turning on the faucet. The older brunette turned away and tried to do regular-person things, like brush his teeth, wash his face, and so on. Despite Ace’s distracted appearance, his ears were raptly trained on the sound of running water, and the small noises that soapy skin made. 

_What is wrong with me?_ The commander thought, staring at the harrowed man in the mirror. _This was not my problem two days ago. Why is it my problem now?_

“—Ace?” Luffy called, behind the curtain. 

“Y-Yeah?”

The teen pulled the curtain back slightly. “I got shampoo in my eyes… Can you help with my hair?” 

“Of course,” Ace replied, as calm as he could sound. “Uh, just, sit down.” He grabbed the showerhead, bringing it down to where the teen had settled. Luffy was curled up by the edge of the tub, eyes screwed tight and probably stinging. 

The older man brought a hand up to the teen’s head, scrubbing away at the excess shampoo. Luffy seemed quite content, like a puppy getting scratched behind the ears. Ace would have smiled, if he wasn’t busy keeping predatory thoughts at bay. 

He trained his eyes to stay upwards, in the safer areas of the teen’s face and chest. After a thorough rinse of his face and hair, Luffy peered one eye open. “Okay, thanks Ace!” 

He paused. “Ah, can you wash my back, too?” This was something they generally agreed upon, considering Luffy would have one hell of a time trying to wash it himself. 

Ace stammered, “Yeah, yeah, of course.” 

He grabbed the soap, watching Luffy turn his back and settle on the edge of the tub. The older brunette felt himself hesitate, eyes roaming the teen’s bare back. The commander wondered, then, how many people had touched Luffy like this, if any at all. 

_Am I the first?_ He thought, unbidden. Possessiveness coiled itself like a snake in Ace’s gut. He tried to shoo it away, but the dreams reared their heads, of past lives where Ace touched and held the teen so closely. If Izo’s theory was correct, then Ace was sure that he’d said the words ‘I love you’ to Luffy more than anyone else in the world. 

The thought sent the man’s heart pounding. His hand was still roaming the other’s back, feeling the steady pace of Luffy’s heart, seemingly in contrast to his own. 

The teen peered over curiously, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Are you done, Ace?” 

Their eyes met. 

The commander realized that his own cheeks were turning red, too red. Luffy looked at him with a strange stare, as though the teen wanted to peer into the man’s brain and figure out what the hell was going on in there. Ace thanked the heavens that he couldn’t do that. 

“Yeah,” Ace murmured, fighting off his blush. “I’m almost done.” 

His hand drifted down the teen’s back, and that’s when he felt Luffy’s heartbeat pick up speed. _What?_

Luffy quickly turned and looked away, and Ace’s eyes widened. 

From this angle, he could only slightly witness the change, but it seemed that the teen’s ears were reddening. 

Ace felt his throat run dry. _What do I do?_ He anxiously thought. The idea that Luffy was reacting to his touch may have driven him mildly crazy. _Be reasonable!_ Ace mentally yelled. _Can’t we just finish this shower without any sexually charged incidents? I need to slow down._

He withdrew his hand like he’d burned it, and told the teen to stand. “You can rinse off now,” Ace nearly stuttered, quickly shutting the curtain. He washed his hands with cold water, and doused a healthy amount on his face too. _Calm down, calm down, calm down._

He took a deep breath. Ace decided to scrape up some alone-time during the day to tug one out. Maybe then he’d act less restless. 

“Are you good now, Luffy?” He asked, as neutral as possible. 

A beat. “...Yeah,” the teen replied. 

There was a knock on the front door. 

Ace glanced up, somewhat startled. A distraction! _Fucking finally._

* * *

Marco glanced up from his seat. He was at home, drinking a much needed cup of coffee, when a knock resounded on his front door. 

He leaned out of the chair, walking over to the hallway. 

“There’s no fucking way this is right,” Marco heard, from the other side of the doorway. 

“We don’t know that yet!” Came another voice. “Get out your machetes.” 

“Get out my _machetes?!_ We don’t even know if it’s Marco! I’m going to get fucking arrested!” 

The blonde snorted. Against his better judgement, he opened the door. There were two people standing before him, one in an all black suit and the other looking rather familiar. 

“Ah,” Marco paused, taking another long look. “You’re Kitchen Knife Man! So you’ve upgraded to machetes?” 

Their jaws dropped. 

The curly-browed one turned over, muttering, “I knew it was going to work, but I can’t believe your sense of direction is actually _that bad.”_

Kitchen Knife Man scrambled with his machetes, shoving the handle of one of them into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had way too much fun writing this... literally had to add the 'bad flirting' tag just because of this chapter, and oh boy do i mean bad flirting LOL ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ poor ace, tormented by his own horniness (Ｔ▽Ｔ) ur dick betrays u...


	10. Ace of Spades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace screams a lot and ruins the couch.

“Oh, so we’re fighting? ” Marco intoned, watching the two young men gear up for battle. “Let me finish my coffee, yoi.” He gulped down the last remnants in his cup, setting it on a shelf near the doorway. 

“Alright, alright. What’s up, g—”

The blonde kicked him, leg searing with the force of it. Marco pursed his lips at the interruption, and grabbed him roughly by his calf. “You could at least tell me your _names_ first.” His grip tightened on the young man. 

“Our names don’t matter,” Curly-brow replied, grimacing now. “Let go of me, asshole!” 

So Marco tossed him into the living room. He turned to Kitchen Knife Man. “What about you? Are you trying to turn my head in for a bounty or something?” 

The man glared back, diving in to attack him. He got a deep slice into Marco’s arm, but the commander retaliated with a sound kick right in his gut.

“Shit,” Marco hissed, observing the cut. He wasn’t particularly good at dodging life-threatening attacks, for whatever reason. The commander sighed, and slammed the front door, locking it in place. “Alright, you two. Are you going to bother giving me an explanation or—” 

Curly-brow charged in for another kick. “You know,” Marco yelled, “Kicking is sort of _my_ specialty!” And he delivered a blow to the man, for emphasis. But he couldn’t catch a second of a break because Green-hair emerged behind his friend, machete aimed at his chest. 

“Wait!” Curly-brow snapped. “Don’t kill him, we still have to ask him where Luffy is!” 

Marco paused, eyes widening. “—Did you say _Luffy?”_

Kitchen Knife Man stopped the blade midair. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered. “We forgot to mention Luffy.”

* * *

It seemed whoever had knocked was mildly impatient, because not long after Ace had reached the hallway, a banging on the door resounded again. 

“Coming,” Ace yelled. He picked up speed, turning the locks and peeking into the hall. 

The commander paused. An old man that he didn’t quite recognize stood before him, in a hawaiian t-shirt and khaki shorts. A moment passed between them, where they collectively measured the other. 

“...Who are you?” the brunette asked, eyes narrowing. 

“You’re Ace, yes?” The man replied. “Hm. You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” 

Ace reached for the knife he kept by the door. Naturally, as his living arrangements weren’t meant to be known, he had not been registered under his real name when he moved to this apartment. 

“Who the hell are you?” the commander repeated, gripping the knife behind the doorframe. 

The man didn’t respond. Instead, he pulled out a gun. It was a Glock 19M, the gun officially toted by the FBI. 

Ace shut the door behind him, stepping out into the hallway. “You wanna fight? Okay. I’ll fight.” 

“Where’s Luffy?” 

“None of your business.” 

The man cocked the gun at him. “I’m here to kill Luffy. If you let me do it, I’ll let you live.” 

Ace felt his own blood boil in his veins. He’d grown a genuine affection towards the teen, and this affection only strengthened with each passing memory he dreamed of. It was this sentiment that allowed him to sincerely respond, “I’d rather fucking die.” 

His knife was itching in his hands, waiting to strike out at a moment’s notice. 

The old man paused. 

Then, he tucked the gun away, and smiled. “Okay.” 

Ace was both pumped on adrenaline and confused, which was a very poor combination for his decision-making process. “What?” He stuttered, brows furling. _Altercation over?_

“...Are we fighting?” The brunette asked, staring at the old man. “What’s going on?” 

The man laughed outright. “No, no, I was just messing with you! I had to make sure that my grandson was being treated right, you know?” 

“...What?” Ace hissed, again. 

The man whipped out his badge, which confirmed that he was indeed a fed. That wasn’t even the most shocking part, however, because then Ace read out his name: Monkey D. Garp, the director of Internal Investigations in the FBI. 

_“What?!”_ The commander crowed, eyes wide. “What the fuck?” Was this even happening?

Garp cackled, as though he’d pulled off an incredible April Fools prank or something. “Oh man, I really thought you were going to try and kill me for a second! You should have seen your face...” 

Ace found himself thoroughly floored. _“You’re_ Luffy’s grandfather?” 

“Well, duh! Don’t we look alike?” Garp grinned, pointing at his own expression. 

The commander stared at him. 

“No,” Ace retorted. Luffy was at least sort of cute looking.

The old man frowned, folding his arms. “Well, where is my boy anyway? Aren’t you hiding him here or something?” He pulled a rice cracker out of his shirt pocket, seemingly deciding that now was a good time for a snack. 

Ace pursed his lips. He honestly had no idea if he should let this man inside his house. 

It seemed the decision was going to be made for him. “Ace?” Luffy called, opening the door. He was wrapped in a towel, having finished his shower. “Where’d you…” 

The teen’s eyes comically widened. 

“Luffy!” Garp yelled, happily. “Come here, you little idiot!” 

Said teen responded by grabbing Ace’s arm, and shimmying the commander back in the apartment while slamming the front door with his foot. “Lock the door, lock the door,” Luffy urged, in distress. 

Ace scrambled and locked the door. 

“You didn’t tell me your grandpa was a fed,” he whispered, turning back to the teen. “What the fuck.” 

Luffy made some noncommittal noise. “I don’t know! I thought that would make everything more troublesome!” And really, it did. 

“He’s the director of… Something!” Ace cried. “If he can manage to find me… Wait, how is it that your grandpa is like, a government white-collar worker, and you couldn’t even afford a surgery?” 

Luffy deadpanned, “He thinks hospitals are for the weak.” 

Ace squinted. 

“What does that even mean? Is he nuts?” 

“Yes!” the teen replied, emphatically. 

“What are you guys mumbling about?” Garp said, behind them. Luffy did a little jump in the air, and Ace admittedly almost screamed. 

The old man cackled, munching on another rice cracker. “You left your balcony door unlocked. Amateurs.” He grinned. “Why are you crowding the hallway? Come sit on the couch with me.” He settled down in the living room, now whipping out a bottle of soda. 

_Where is he keeping all this food?_ Ace wondered, in bewilderment. _Maybe they are related after all._

He eased over to the living room, still carrying the knife in his hand. Luffy trailed behind him, peering over Ace’s shoulder. The tension was palpable, though Garp seemed utterly unaffected by it. 

The old man smiled at them, patting the empty space on the couch. “Come, come.” 

_Well, it’s not like I can call the cops,_ the commander thought. Reluctantly, Ace and Luffy settled on the couch, eyes fixed on the fed sitting next to them. 

“...Do you need the knife,” Garp muttered, staring at the commander’s hand. Ace narrowed his eyes, but set the knife down on the coffee table. 

The old man sighed. He peered around the older brunette, glancing at Luffy and his bandaged shoulder. “You’re still injured, huh? Wasn’t that from a month ago or something?” Garp furrowed his brows. “Back in _my_ day, it took more than a couple gunshots to keep me down."

“Why are you here,” Luffy blurted, in response. 

The man donned a betrayed look. 

“Luffy! I only see you twice a year, and this is how you greet me?!” He leaned over Ace, and literally decked the teen in the head. Almost instantly, Luffy was knocked out. 

“What the fuck!” Ace blurted, snapping up. He frantically crowded over the teen, checking his forehead for open wounds. There was no wound, but the commander snapped at the old man anyway. “What the hell’s wrong with you!"

Garp seemed utterly guiltless. He glanced down and said, "What? He's fine! That was only quarter-strength; I call it a love-tap." 

"Are you _insane?_ He’s fucking injured," Ace emphasized, pointing at the shoulder wound. 

“...He shouldn’t be,” the man retorted, with an inexplicable disappointment. “It’s been over a month already!"

"Besides," Garp shrugged, "I didn't really want to hurt him, I just wanted him out of this conversation.” 

Ace grabbed the knife, genuinely debating murdering Luffy’s grandfather. His adrenaline rush reignited in full power, and the commander screeched, “You could have told him to go to his room, you goddamned _maniac!”_

“Look!” Garp pointed. “He’s—, He's snoring! I don’t even count that as a punch; it’s more like a muscle relaxant!” 

Ace tried to stab him. 

“Why are you attacking me!” The old man squawked, diving back into the couch. 

“You _know_ why!” 

Garp grimaced, grabbing the brunette’s hand. He had an iron grip, leaving deep bruises on the man’s wrists. Ace was too incensed to care, so he leaned down and chomped his teeth into the old man's knuckles. 

_“Ow!”_ The man yelled, letting go. The commander went in for another stab, which Garp unfortunately dodged. “Stop! Stop, stop!” 

“No!” Ace howled, slicing a cushion. 

The man panicked, and began a seemingly unrelated story. “Ace! Fourteen years ago, Luffy and I went on a survival-hiking trip!” 

“What the fuck are you talking about!” The commander screamed, ripping holes around the old man's flitting form. 

“He was three years old!” Garp continued, desperately. “We were driving to the mountains in the north!” 

Ace’s brow crinkled. “I don’t care?!” 

Garp persisted, as if he really wanted his last words to be about a hiking trip or something. “I was tuned in to a hard rock station! It was playing a classic Motörhead song!” 

The commander paused, huffing from exertion. In the continued battle of adrenaline and confusion, it seemed that confusion was once again winning over. 

“What are you on about,” Ace wheezed, pointing the knife at the fed. “Just fucking say it already.” If this was another interesting prank, he would probably kill the man in cold blood. 

Garp settled with his back against the wall, taking a deep breath. The couch had been ripped to shreds. “It’s..." huff, "One of my favorite songs, actually." Huff, huff. "Ace of Spades. When Luffy heard the song, he started to cry.”

Ace swallowed, thickly.

The old man stared warily at him, watching the knife in the commander’s hand. 

Garp took a bite out of the now crumpled rice cracker. After some munching, he continued. “That was the first time I ever heard Luffy mourn. After that, he talked my ear off about someone named Ace, who was part of the Whitebeards.” 

The young brunette gave him a perplexed stare. 

Garp returned his stare with a considering glance of his own. “I thought Luffy was going nuts. He wouldn’t shut up about past lives." A beat. "How do you feel about past lives, Ace?” 

Ace shut his eyes. He felt just about every possible emotion pass underneath his tightly screwed eyelids, and then he opened them again. 

The commander dropped the knife on the table. He settled down on the shredded couch, propping his forehead in his palms. An unbelievable headache was pounding right inside his brain, but Ace replied, “Keep going.” 

The old man cleared his throat, continuing on. “Naturally, I was concerned about the whole thing,” Garp explained. “As far as I knew, Luffy was experiencing a very real grief over an imaginary criminal friend.” For whatever reason, he particularly emphasized the _‘criminal’_ part. “He was having some terrible nightmares, and he didn’t have any way to cope with them.” 

Ace’s eyes widened. “About me?” 

“Yes, about you. Almost all about you. I remember once, Luffy had a particularly bad nightmare about your death. I told him that perhaps this was the world’s way of telling him to get stronger, so he could protect you.” Really, Garp meant something along the lines of ‘join the military and protect citizens’, though Ace didn’t need to know that. 

“You know what he told me?” The old man snapped, munching aggressively. “Luffy looked at me and said _'You let Ace die!"_

Garp snorted at the memory. "I didn’t even know you existed! He acted like I’d betrayed him or something," the man huffed. "But then a few minutes later, Luffy broke down again, and said that it was really his fault; that he had been the one to let you die.” 

Ace turned his head, staring at the sleeping teen. “...Did he really say that?” 

“Oh, yes,” Garp retorted, taking another gulp of his soda. “It was ridiculous. Luffy was 7 years old! Can you imagine a 7 year old, genuinely trying to take responsibility for someone’s death?” The old man paused, tossing a look of pity at his grandson. “Of course, it crushed him.”

Ace was rendered silent. 

“And I suspect that he has been living with this pain all his life. When I heard that there truly was an ‘Ace’ out there, and said man was a member of the Whitebeards, I had to pay attention to Luffy’s experiences.” Garp assessed the commander in front of him. “But the reality still stands. You’re just some highschool drop-out gangster, and I have no idea if you are as devoted to my grandson as he is to you.” 

“But,” the old man paused, “You did try to kill me twice, so that’s good.” Garp smiled with some level of approval. 

* * *

“You’re Luffy’s friends?” Marco uttered, brows furrowed in irritation. “Why didn’t you just _say_ that?” 

Zoro and Sanji had no acceptable answer. “Uhh…”

The commander huffed, wrapping up his injured arm. “What kind of idiotic plan is that, yoi? Trying to kill me without even questioning me.” Having been in a gang almost all his life, Marco found himself quite exhausted of unnecessary confrontations. 

“What the hell did you think you were achieving?” The man lectured, staring pointedly at the two. They were bruised in their own right, gripping at their own mottled wounds. 

Sanji pursed his lips. “Sorry. We didn’t think you were reasonable.” 

Marco scoffed. “No gangster on this planet lives to see their forties by being unreasonable.” 

Wisely, Zoro kept silent. He only started fighting on instinct, because the commander looked decently strong. He was in fact mildly disappointed that their altercation had ended. 

“So you’re looking for the kid, I’m assuming. And somehow, you managed to make your way to me.” 

The chef cleared his throat. “I recognized you from Baratie, actually.” Not that he and Marco had a single remarkable interaction; the commander wasn’t a cute woman, after all. “You ordered a dish that only exists because Luffy brought it upon us.” 

The man hummed in response. “Fascinating. I suppose I should have asked Luffy for a wider variety, if a detail like this was going to give me away… Nothing can be done, yoi.” He sighed, and glanced between the two men. “So? What do you want?” 

No answer. 

Marco tapped his foot, waiting for one of the two to start churning demands. 

Zoro started. “Well, we’re obviously looking for Luffy. And we want to know if he’s safe.” 

“He’s safe,” the commander retorted, bluntly. “Safer than he’d be if he was still frolicking where he used to live.” 

The green-haired man frowned. “We can’t just take your word for it.” 

“Can’t you?” Marco muttered, under his breath. “Whatever. I guess I’d do the same thing, if I was in your position.” He whipped out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “Why don’t you guys sit down, yoi? I might take a while.” 

“What are you going to do?” Sanji asked, warily. 

Marco reached the P section, and settled on ‘Pops.’

“Well, I’m either going to help you or hospitalize you, depending on what my old man has to say,” the commander retorted, smiling. He did not miss the wild glint that showed in Zoro’s eyes.

* * *

Luffy woke up. He looked around, eyes wide, searching for his grandfather. Garp was nowhere to be seen. 

The teen glanced down, realizing that at some point, he’d become fully clothed. A blanket was tucked on top of him. He took a whiff of the air, and smelled food emanating from the kitchen. 

Luffy decided that after all the stress of the morning’s events, food sounded absolutely wonderful. He eased out of the blankets, waddling over to the kitchen’s door frame. Ace was inside, blankly staring at a pan while it cooked some ham and sausages. 

“...Ace?” the younger brunette called. “Where’d my grandpa go?” 

The commander turned to him, eyes widening as though a spell had been broken. The spatula clattered out of his hand, and Ace rushed to greet the teen. “Luffy? Are you okay? Your head doesn’t hurt, does it?” He ran a hand through the younger man’s hair, feeling for any signs of bruising. 

Luffy felt somewhat flustered by the treatment. “Uh, you dropped the spatula.” He pointed to its location on the floor. 

Ace muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath, but did nothing about it. He continued what seemed to be a compulsory check of the teen’s forehead, until he was satisfied with what he saw. Finally, the commander seemed to settle down. 

“So… My grandpa?” Luffy tried, again. 

“I kicked him out.” 

A beat. 

“We talked for a bit, though,” Ace elaborated. “I have his number, if I ever have to go through speaking with him again.” 

“What did he come here for?” The teen asked, staring up at the man. 

In a strain of silence, Ace didn’t answer. 

It was then that Luffy realized that the man had not taken his hand out of his hair. Almost absently, the older brunette shifted his fingers through the teen’s bangs, the same way one would stroke a soft patch of fur. He only drew away when Luffy’s cheeks started to redden. 

“Uh,” Ace murmured. He went back to the stove, picking up the spatula and rinsing it off. “He… Well, I think he wanted to check on you. Apparently he found out you were hospitalized.” 

“Oh,” the teen mouthed. “Okay.” 

The commander shovelled the ham and sausages onto two plates, throwing in a couple slices of buttered toast for good measure. “Well, I know it’s more like lunch-time at this point, but breakfast is ready.” He smiled, weakly. 

Luffy gave him a moderately worried glance. “You’re tired,” he commented. Well, Ace was tired everyday, but today especially. “Maybe you should nap after this.” 

“...Maybe,” the man replied. 

They made their way to the couch, which was covered entirely in blankets. Ace settled down, looking sleepier and sleepier with every passing moment. After five or six rounds of heaping toast into his mouth, the commander had summarily passed out onto his plate. 

Luffy glanced over at him, smiling fondly. 

He dumped Ace’s plate of food onto his own, and shifted the man into a more comfortable position. It was when Luffy lifted the blankets up that he saw the state of the couch underneath. 

“What the _hell,”_ he blurted, eyes wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i stg guys this whole chap. i feel like i was mentally screaming 80% of the lines as i wrote them. idk if this chap is even coherent, because garp is NUTS lmaooo _(:3」∠)_ i wonder in which lifetime garp will learn to stop hitting his children  
> ( ´_ゝ`) maybe then they'll become law-abiding citizens
> 
> when i wrote ace saying "I'd rather fucking die" i literally screamed, like, _"HAVE U LEARNED **NOTHING,** ACE?!!?!"_


	11. Reigniting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is a series of hilarious tragedies.

At some point in the middle of the day, Luffy found himself utterly unoccupied, as Ace was now fast asleep and getting what was likely the most relaxing rest that he had achieved in a while. The teen sighed, taking up the little sliver of room that was left over on the couch. 

His phone rang in his pocket. 

Luffy clambered around, digging it out. He checked the caller tag: _‘Marco :D!!!’_

The brunette smiled. He’d added the _‘:D!!!’_ after Marco had bought him a bunch of steaks. He picked up the phone, answering, “Hello?” 

“Luffy! What’s up? Ace isn’t picking up his phone, yoi.” 

The teen glanced over towards the unconscious man. The older brunette was snoring, sound asleep. “He’s napping,” Luffy stated. “Ace is tired lately.” 

Marco hummed. “No kidding. Well, I have to talk to you anyway, so this is fine.” 

Luffy cocked his head. “Me?” 

“Yeah.” A beat of silence passed between them. “So, do you know two guys named Zoro and Sanji, by any chance?” 

The teen’s eyes widened. “Yeah! They’re my friends,” he answered, legs swinging back and forth. 

“How much do you trust them?” 

Luffy hesitated. What a confusing question. “...With my life?” 

* * *

“Ah,” Marco stopped, in the middle of the road. “Sanji. You’re a cook, right?” 

The blonde in question nodded. “I’ve been a chef almost all my life.” 

They were on their way to Ace’s apartment. Whitebeard had reluctantly given permission, as long as the two agreed to turn away and didn’t involve themselves any further. It wasn’t the best of concessions, but it still counted as one. 

“Well,” Marco began, “Ace usually cooks for Luffy, but I’m sure it isn’t comparable to the food made by a bonafide chef. Would you mind?” Not to mention Ace was apparently busy napping anyway.

Sanji seemed quite surprised at the request. Zoro elbowed him. “Are you actually gonna cook for these guys?” The green-haired man stage whispered. 

The chef paused, thinking quietly on the matter. “Well, it’s for Luffy,” he mumbled. “And it’s just one day.”

Marco stood on the pavement, waiting for the man to make a decision. 

“Fine,” Sanji answered. “It’s better than getting take-out from Baratie all the time. Can we stop by a grocery store?” 

The commander nodded in satisfaction. They changed their trajectory, veering off towards a nearby supermarket. 

“You know,” the chef muttered, under his breath. “I’m starting to realize that… well, if the Whitebeards were willing to buy steak from Luffy’s favorite restaurant, maybe he wasn’t in that much trouble after all.” 

Zoro’s brow twitched. 

“...That’s... not wrong,” he reluctantly conceded. 

* * *

The three men made it to the apartment building with no incident. They were carrying dozens of ingredients, since Sanji decided that he wasn’t about to be half-assed about a good old-fashioned home cooked meal. Luffy opened the door, hushing them upon entry. 

“Sanji! Zoro!” He whispered, hugging them excitedly. “Marco!” The teen added, also hugging the commander. “Meat!” He finished, reaching for the bags. Sanji twisted them away from the teen. 

“Why are we whispering,” Zoro asked. 

Luffy pointed to the living room, where Ace was passed out on the couch. “If I don’t make myself whisper, I’ll yell,” the teen grinned. “I’m excited.” 

Marco smiled, shutting the door quietly. 

They gathered themselves in the kitchen, where Sanji laid out all the ingredients. He planned to make a large stockpile of beef stew, which the teen could easily refrigerate and reheat at a moment’s notice. The stew would last up to four days, though it would probably be sucked into Luffy’s vacuous stomach within the next 24 hours. 

“You, and you,” Sanji pointed at Zoro and Luffy. “Get out of here. You’re taking up space in the kitchen.” He squinted at the green-haired man. “Especially you, asshole. You don’t even have the right to stand in a kitchen, with the way you wasted your knives.” 

“Dipshit,” Zoro whispered, under his breath. Luffy looked particularly disappointed, but he acquiesced to Sanji’s demands. “Fiiiine.” 

The chef sighed, and turned to Marco. “Are you good with a knife?” 

* * *

Zoro and Luffy found themselves in the living room, sitting a small distance away from Ace’s sleeping form. 

Luffy glanced over at the swordsman, with a mirthful expression. 

“Three-sword style,” He commented, staring pointedly at the handles sticking out of the man’s knapsack. “I haven’t seen that in a while.” 

Zoro sucked his teeth, glowering at the wall. 

“Did I scare you?” Luffy asked. A beat passed, and he added, “Sorry.” 

The older man glanced at the teen. He gave Luffy’s bandaged shoulder a long, hard look. “You should be.” 

There was another moment of silence between them. Zoro glanced away, staring off into the plain wooden patterns on the floor. “Almost everyone got together for you,” he muttered. “It’s unreal. After all these years…” 

“Really?” Luffy asked, eyes widening. 

The man nodded, frowning slightly. “Yeah. Nami and Usopp were throwing fits. Robin hacked into a hospital to find out about you. Franky…” He paused. “...I don’t actually know what he did,” Zoro muttered, perplexed. “He was moral support, I guess.” 

Luffy laughed, though it was muffled for Ace’s sake. 

He joined Zoro in the act of staring off into the floor, though his eyes were shining happily. “That sounds nice. And they even managed to get you in on it.” The teen gave the swordsman a sly smile. “What happened? I thought our journey was over.” 

“It is,” Zoro retorted, firmly. “You decided it was, a long time ago.” 

“Did I?” 

The older man shot him a piercing stare. “Ace isn’t always the one who dies.” 

Luffy’s smile faded, though it didn’t disappear. “No, he isn't. But I’m here now, aren’t I?” 

The green haired man didn’t reply. Instead, he muttered, “I should have known. I was wondering why I felt so tense this year…” It seemed common for the ball to start rolling when Luffy reached an old enough age. “Unlike you, Luffy, I hate getting caught in cycles. Especially a losing one.” 

“But aren’t you caught?” The teen retorted, with a casual glance at the man’s swords. 

Zoro gritted his teeth. 

“If it was you instead of Ace,” Luffy continued, “I would still do the same thing. And I know that you would do this for me, too.” He smiled with a special sort of certainty. 

“I don’t get you sometimes,” the swordsman replied, brows furling. 

“But you do!” the teen insisted. “That’s why you’re my vice captain.” He propped his cheek comfortably against the man’s shoulder. Zoro had an irritated expression, but he stayed in place, folding his arms. 

“You’re not my captain anymore, you selfish prick. You know how long ago that was?” 

Luffy chortled. “But you’re still here, aren’t you?” 

“Stop living in the past,” Zoro retorted, glaring down at the teen. “Is that why you got shot? You still think you’re made of rubber, huh?” 

The teen couldn’t control his laughter. He quieted down quickly when Ace rustled under the blankets, but the commander simply turned to the side and snored some more. Luffy watched the older brunette with an uninhibited fond gaze. 

Zoro did not miss the look. “Does he remember? He better.” 

Luffy curled up in his chair, eyes fixed on Ace. 

“He didn’t, at first,” the teen admitted. “But lately, I feel like something’s changing.” 

“What is?” 

Luffy shrugged. “The way he looks at me.” 

Zoro paused, and scoffed. “Must be tiring for him, realizing that he’s seen your idiotic grin for dozens of years.” 

“Are _you_ tired, Zoro?” Luffy asked, shooting an idiotic grin at the man. 

The swordsman glanced at him, and then proceeded to roll his eyes. “Believe me,” Zoro replied, “I was already tired by our first shared lifetime.”

* * *

Sanji finished preparing the stew. It was in a slow cooker, and it would be ready by the time dinner rolled around. 

He’d begun the arduous task of writing a makeshift cookbook, scrawled in ballpoint pen on a throwaway notepad. The cookbook was for Ace, as Sanji had no idea how long it would take for the two to get over whatever secret ordeal they had to get over. 

“You care quite deeply for Luffy,” Marco observed. “You and Zoro, both.” 

Sanji took a small puff out of his cigarette. “A lot of people care about Luffy. It’s a miracle you managed to coop him up here and he hasn’t run off to find one of his friends.” 

Marco smiled. “We asked, yoi. And Luffy agreed.” 

“Once again, a _miracle._ Doesn’t he get bored? He’s annoying when he’s bored.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t know, but it seems like Luffy is having a lot of fun with Ace.” Marco paused. _And my pops,_ he thought, to himself. Unbelievable. 

“No kidding,” Sanji commented. He finished up the last recipe, counting out 10 in total. They were simple enough, but still worlds apart from a regular cook’s capabilities, in the chef’s humble opinion. 

Sanji huffed, setting the pen down. He checked the time; 3 PM. 

“Alright. Well, the stew should be finished cooking by around 7. I guess I’ll tell Luffy that.” 

Marco nodded, starting on the dirty dishes. Sanji wandered out to the living room, finding the teen and Zoro whispering amongst each other, in a strange mixture of amicable tension. He raised a brow. “Luffy,” the blonde called, in his indoor voice. 

Luffy glanced up, eyes glinting excitedly. “Meat?” He replied, without missing a beat.

Sanji took a long puff out of his cigarette. 

Sometimes, he felt like Luffy didn’t even see him as a human, but rather as a meat-cooking machine. Despite this, the man continued to (literally and figuratively) feed into the teen’s twisted conceptions, as if he wanted to prove Luffy right. 

He sighed. 

“I made you beef stew.” There was enough in that slowcooker to feed 8 people, or in other words, 1 Luffy. “You should set a timer for 7 PM, because that’s when it’ll be ready. Save some for that guy over there, will you?” He pointed his chin at the sleeping commander. 

Luffy grinned. “Of course!” He answered. Sanji appraised the teen’s expression, finding it sincere enough. He was impressed to see the teen willing to share, in all honesty. 

“Alright. Good.” He stood there, feeling quite awkward now. The chef looked over at Zoro. “Well, Luffy’s here, and he’s safe,” the blonde concluded. “I guess we got what we came for.” 

Zoro didn’t reply. He eased out of his seat with a yawn. 

“Do you want my number, Luffy?” Sanji asked. He realized now was a good opportunity, if there would be any. 

Luffy shook his head. “It’s okay.” 

“... Are you sure?” 

The teen smiled. “It’s not safe,” he answered, simply. “You guys should go. Thank you, Sanji!” 

The chef’s eyes widened. He was under no impression that Luffy cared for whether or not matters were ‘safe’. “O-okay… Well, you could just call Baratie anyway.” 

Luffy wrapped them in a tight, one-armed hug. “I miss everyone,” he admitted, “But I’ll see you soon, I promise.” The teen accompanied the two to the front door, watching them gear up to leave. 

“Won’t you at least talk about what’s going on?” Sanji asked, in the hallway. 

Luffy shook his head. 

“Sorry,” the teen murmured. “But I’m serious about this.” 

The chef stared at him with an unreadable expression. Zoro sighed, grabbing the blonde by the arm. “C’mon, let’s go. He’s fine.” He turned a glare towards the teen. “Don’t do anything stupid, Luffy.” 

The teen returned his stare. “I promise I won’t,” he replied. 

And so he watched them leave, disappearing into the stairway and out of his sight. Luffy felt a weight lift from his chest. 

He shut the door. 

The teen made his way into the kitchen, where a heavenly smell was emanating. Marco was inside, finishing up the dishes. “They just left,” Luffy announced. He snooped around, stumbling across a notepad with _‘Cookbook for Luffy/Ace’_ written at the top. “What’s this?” 

Marco glanced over, and smiled. “A recipe collection. Sanji wrote it up for Ace to use, yoi.” 

The teen flipped through the pages. Some of his favorite recipes were in there, and then there were some spicy dishes that he knew were for the commander alone. Sanji was nothing, if not an accommodating chef. “Ahh, I didn’t get to thank him…” 

“You have nice friends,” Marco commented. “Say, would they be interested in joining the Whitebeards?” 

Luffy laughed. “Nice try!” Call him possessive, but he couldn’t imagine anyone in his old crew joining somebody else. 

“So, what happened with Ace today?” Marco began, wiping his hands off. “Is there a reason he’s prostrated on the couch, or is he just particularly lazy these days?”

Luffy paused, mouth opening. No sound came out. 

The commander raised a brow. “...Yeah?” 

The teen adopted a nervous expression. “My grandpa came over this morning,” he admitted. 

Marco’s eyes widened. _“Here?”_

“Yeah.” 

The blonde stared openly at the teen. “...And you didn’t think to mention this?” 

Luffy felt a bit of sweat prickle on his neck. “I wanted to wait till Sanji and Zoro left,” he explained. “Since I thought you’d freak out.” The teen pursed his lips together, and very innocently admitted the hard part: “My gramps is in the FBI.” 

_“What?”_ Marco blurted, as agitated as the teen had ever seen him. “Luffy, this is not something to joke about right now.” 

“I’m not joking!” Luffy replied. “Ace said he found out because of the hospital records, but I don’t know what else they talked about. I think they tried to fight each other.” 

“You _think?_ Where were you?” 

Luffy shrugged. “My grandpa hit me at some point so I got knocked out. There’s a bunch of holes in the couch now.” 

Marco took a moment to process that sentence. He walked out to the living room, pulling one of the many blankets on the cushions to the side. 

“Jesus,” he muttered. The couch was destroyed. Yet upon closer inspection, there was no blood, so it seemed that the fight was resolved by other means. “And your grandpa _hit_ you?” He had to clarify, just to make sure. 

Luffy pursed his lips, staring at the ripped furniture. “Yeah, he does that.” 

The blonde felt a migraine coming on. “Where’d you get hit? The head?” Marco squinted, glancing at the teen’s hairline. He brought a hand up and inspected Luffy’s scalp, searching for an injury. 

“Hmm. I don’t see anything, but if you think you have a concussion, you should rest, too.” 

The blonde frowned pensively. He was disturbed that the teen’s grandpa could knock him out without showing any signs of evidence. As Luffy was already 17, it seemed it was too late to call up Child Protective Services. Not to mention, the man was a _literal_ FBI agent. 

Marco sighed.

He pulled out his phone, texting quite vigorously. 

“I think the only thing saving my sanity right now,” Marco commented, “Is the fact that Ace saw fit to go to sleep instead of calling me.” Incredibly ironic, how that worked. “Which means, hopefully, this is not as big of a problem as I think it is, yoi.” 

* * *

Ace awoke again some time in the evening. 

He was in a daze, as one would be after a six hour nap in the middle of the day. The brunette eased out of the blankets, wandering towards the wonderful smell emanating from the kitchen. “Luffy?” He croaked, squinting into the doorway. “Did you... make something?” 

The teen glanced over. “Ace! You’re awake.” He was hovering over the slow cooker, a bowl occupying his good hand. “You missed out on a lot.” 

“I did?” Ace murmured. He poured himself a cup of water, and promptly guzzled it down in two gulps. 

“Yeah!” Luffy grinned. “Marco came over with two of my friends!” 

Ace woke up. “Wait, what?” 

The teen pointed at the notepad sitting on the counter. “Look, Sanji made us stew, and he wrote a cookbook for you. Zoro came here too…” 

Ace scrutinized the notepad, flipping through the pages. There was the classic steak-and-mashed-potatoes dish, a fried rice recipe, beef stew, sautéed vegetables, and even some Tex-Mex recipes, which Ace knew Marco must have suggested. “Holy shit,” he said. "They came here."

“Isn’t it great?" Luffy peered over at the notepad, humming excitedly. "Sanji is my favorite cook in the world.” 

That spurred the commander to study the recipes even closer. “How’d your friends get here?” He asked, tapping a finger on the notepad. 

“They found Marco and tried to fight him.” 

“Oh,” Ace hummed, noncommittal. “That’s not smart. I tried to fight Marco once.” He’d gotten his ass handed to him. Granted, Ace was much younger at the time. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy about it, Lu—,” The older brunette paused. The events of the day returned to him, in full clarity. “Wait, did you tell Marco what happened this morning?” It was like he’d intentionally beamed Garp out of his own head. 

Luffy glanced at him, mouth puckered.

“...Yeah.” 

Ace sighed. Just like that, the headache was back. 

“What happened, after I got knocked out?” The teen asked. “I saw the couch.” 

The commander chuckled at a mildly hysterical pitch. “I’m sorry, Luffy.” Except, deep down, he wasn’t. “I tried to stab him.” 

The teen nodded, giving him that unmistakable blank stare. _What is he doing?_ Ace thought, quietly. _Dissociating?_

Luffy turned away, eyes returning to the slow cooker. “Well, Marco said he wanted to talk to you about it tomorrow. With some other commanders.” 

The older brunette nodded, awkwardly collecting his own bowl and standing with the teen. After a few minutes of standing there, a timer dinged, and Luffy excitedly popped open the slow cooker. 

“It smells amazing,” Ace ruminated, in awe. 

The teen grabbed a ladle and poured an excessive serving into his own bowl. He passed it over to the older man, who heaped as much as he could as well. 

They spent their dinner in a comfortable silence, where Luffy did not bring up any stressful events, and Ace did not linger on any stressful ideas. For a brief 45 minute interlude, all Ace knew was the inherent peace of eating a masterful beef stew. Between the two of them, the entire serving was gone in the hour. 

By the time Ace entered the shower, that peace was just about eviscerated. 

He stared at the blank, white ceiling, laying in the tub and letting the showerhead rain down on his body. If Ace closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was nothing more than a puddle on a sidewalk. This fantasy didn’t last long, because he unfortunately knew that puddles didn’t die in their early twenties. 

So the commander’s imagination drifted to more realistic fantasies, that were supported by factual evidence and witness testimonies (particularly Garp’s). In summary, he imagined a very young rendition of Luffy, grieving all by himself, over the span of not one, but possibly several lifetimes.

An hour passed until Ace noticed he’d been in fetal position, and had not even lifted a finger to touch the soap. He buried his face in his hands, forcing himself to ease out of the uncomfortable pose. 

It was now 11 at night. The commander, realizing that he’d done nothing but waste a great deal of water, turned the faucet off and resigned to try again in the morning. He’d spent a chunk of the day sleeping, but he found that he didn’t mind the idea of sleeping some more. 

“Luffy?” He called, after throwing on a pair of boxers. Ace wrung his hair through a wet towel, looking around the dark apartment. He peeked into the bedroom. The teen, having eaten like a pig, was fast asleep on the bed. Luffy had left just enough room for the other man to join him. 

Ace felt his gut tighten with tension. 

It was not that he had come to fear Luffy, but rather, the reality of his dreams had now sunken in. Ace knew that if he got on that bed and slept by the younger man’s side, he would likely face another tragic memory, and he knew now that the teen had probably faced it as well. 

The man wondered how they could share something so terrible with each other. But in the process of wondering, he realized that Luffy had long had no option of sharing; before Ace remembered, the teen simply carried these memories on his own. 

It was that thought that pushed him forward. He slipped underneath the covers, sucked in a deep breath, and fell asleep. 

* * *

Ace entered a particularly torturous memory. 

He was in his late teens. Ace found himself in a home, on the verge of collapse and smoking with fire. There was the deafening sound of violence outside, which Ace knew from older dreams to be the noise of war. 

It was an incredible paradox. All along the home were pictures of him and Luffy, looking relatively the same age. Yet before him was a man on the verge of his sixties, with peppered black hair and a weathered, kind face. 

Ace knew, instinctually, that this man was indeed Luffy. He wondered how he could be so young when Luffy seemed so much older, until the obvious answer presented itself. 

In a span of one lifetime, Ace had already been reincarnated twice. And somehow, both times, he found himself caught in the same pair of arms. He realized that the man did look strikingly similar to Garp, and had become so much stronger as well. 

Luffy pulled away from the teen, and that was when Ace realized that he was bleeding. There were wounds decorating the man’s broad chest, marring that faded x-scar. 

_He’s dying,_ Ace thought, paralyzed. The coldest feeling in the world washed over him, and it held him down at the knees. 

“Luffy,” he urged. “Luffy, we have to get out of here.” He stumbled over, reaching for the man’s calloused hands. “We have to get you somewhere safe!” 

Luffy smiled, shaking his head. “I’m only going to slow you down,” he replied, simply. “You have to go by yourself.” 

“I don’t _want_ to go by myself!” Ace sobbed. 

The man laughed, coughing with the force of his breaths. “That’s not like you, Ace.” He grinned, bringing the young brunette back down. Luffy wrapped him in a warm embrace. 

“Why don’t you promise me something,” The man began, patting the teen’s back. Ace realized that he was uttering his last words. The world was so deafening, and the smoke fogged and fire crackled in his ears, and the idea that Ace would not be able to hear Luffy speak one more time suddenly became a thunderously frightening reality. He tried to reply, but his voice choked on itself and he buried his face in the man's chest instead. 

The older brunette chuckled softly. He allowed himself a moment to hold the teen just a bit tighter, until he pulled away. 

“Promise me you’ll remember all this, Ace.” Luffy held his face up, staring at the teen with unparalleled determination. “Promise me you’ll remember, and live.” The man ran a slow, lethargic hand through Ace's hair. "Live, no matter what." 

“Please—, don’t die,” the young brunette begged, stammering. _“Please.”_

“Don’t cry,” the man replied, wiping at the teen’s wet cheeks. “I’ll be back! You’ve died too much for me, Ace. Now it’s my turn.” 

And Luffy smiled.

Ace watched in slow motion as the glow of life faded from his eyes. 

* * *

The commander woke suddenly, with a harsh hiss.

It was four in the morning, pitch black in the world and silent. 

He stared numbly into the air, still hyperventilating, feeling the sweat on his forehead cool in the chill of the room. 

There was a subtle thrum; partially the vigorous pounding of Ace’s own heart, and partially the smooth hum of Luffy’s. The teen beside him resonated warmth, and the commander focused his attention, grounding himself to reality with that emanating heat. _This is real,_ he reminded himself, desperately. _This, too, is real._ And Ace clung to that idea by the skin of his teeth. 

It was only after a long, dark span of silence, that the commander began to think. And when he did, Ace felt the same thought echo inside his head. 

_“You’ve forgotten everything, haven’t you?”_

It was what Luffy had asked, following the mourning-after party. The teen had spoken the words with a hard expression.

Ace realized, then, that Luffy had been hurt. 

His cheeks tightened, a grimace carving itself into them. The commander turned in his place, looming over the sleeping teen. _I remember,_ he thought, quietly. _I’ll never forget again. I'm so, so sorry._ Ace reached out, carding a hand through the younger man's hair. 

All of a sudden, he felt that he wanted to cry. 

Ace had never deemed his own life a precious commodity. When his mother passed away, he was willing to give up everything, as he seemed to have nothing left to hold on to. Life was such that there was no one above him watching with a careful eye, and no one below him who needed his example to admire. 

All in all, Ace had no reason, or rather, no person, in which to exist. 

When she passed away, Ace naturally could not afford a funeral. It was as though this would be the final failure he would depart upon his mother, in a long string of melancholy misfortunes. 

Whitebeard, despite having never met him, and demanding no repayment, paid for the entire funeral out of pocket. They met at his mother’s grave, and Newgate promised that there was a future in which Ace had a right to exist. 

It was Ace’s first encounter with the man, and it had rocked him to his core. Whitebeard had asked nothing of him but to continue living. 

Since then, Ace had a starstruck feeling with the man that he now called his father, and it was not dissimilar to the feeling he had in this moment, with Luffy. He recognized it to be a compounding of lifetimes of promises; of sworn allegiances and unswerving loyalties. 

They drifted towards each other, like flames seeking other flames in the darkness of fate, reigniting with each passing lifetime. 

Ace wrapped a careful arm around Luffy’s sleeping form. Like a habitual magnet, the teen eased back, connecting comfortably against the older man’s body. The young brunette’s heartbeat was slow and ever-steady, and it stirred the deepest fogs of forgotten memories in Ace’s mind. This was the same heartbeat he’d felt thousands upon thousands of times. 

It was then that Ace thought, while weeping in the darkness of the room, that perhaps being alive was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall: (laughing from the last few chaps) LMAO!!!  
> me: (loading the angst gun) lmao
> 
> ok but omg the first draft of this was about to be like, 16 pages long. this chap was _unstoppable._ i actually wrote the end of it first, and i had to slowly connect the beginning until i reached the middle of it all （；￣д￣）how tiring... but now ace is at the stage where he's actually going nuts _(:3」∠)_ before he was worried that he loved luffy too much, and now he's like _"do i love him **enough???"**_


	12. A True Mourning After-Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bottom of a bottle is a soothing place to be.

Garp returned to headquarters the next morning, finding himself distracted by a whirlwind of thoughts as a result of his impromptu-vacation. He had never seen Ace in person until now, but the familiarity of the young man was striking, even when he was actively stabbing him (or perhaps _especially_ when he was actively stabbing him).

Garp had only returned home upon hearing the news of Ace’s death, fearing Luffy’s reaction above all. 

Seeing them together, huddling so closely as if they’d done so all their lives, left the old man with a tingling feeling of deja vu. There was a nostalgic note to it all, as though Luffy was never fated to be an only child. 

Garp smiled, peaceably. 

“I see you’ve returned, director.” 

His smile slipped away. 

He turned in the hallway, facing his fellow colleague, yet another director of an FBI task force. “Sakazuki.”

The man smiled at him, eyes flitting intently underneath the brim of a baseball cap. The two directors measured each other, neither quite interrupting the silence, until, “You’ve injured your hand, Garp. Did something happen during your little getaway?” 

The old man glanced down, looking at his own bandaged right hand. Ace had bitten him quite deeply. 

“...One of my dogs bit me,” Garp lied, loosely. “Bogard is looking after him now.” 

Sakazuki chuckled. “You need to work on disciplining your dogs.” 

He paused, giving Garp one of those stares that made his skin crawl. “Though, I guess I can’t expect much, considering how your son came out,” the younger man commented. “Dogs are the least of your issues.” 

Garp gritted his teeth. “Are you done, Sakazuki? Or is this one of those days where you run your mouth uncontrollably?” 

“We both know I’m just joking with you—,” 

_“Do_ we, now?” The old man retorted, grimly. 

“—Though I will mention,” Sakazuki continued, with a pointed look, “I’m quite curious as to why you saw fit to return home this week. After all, if there’s any structure in your work-life, it’s the structure of your vacation time. Lord knows it isn’t anywhere else.” 

Garp cursed, internally. _Of course he had to take notice._

“Did you stop by and see Luffy?” Sakazuki asked. He smiled as he spoke the teen’s name. 

The older agent kept a neutral expression. 

“Is this your infamous psychological warfare?” Garp asked, only half-joking. He stared down at the younger man. “Because I can’t imagine why you’d be doing it to me.” Last he’d checked, Akainu only reserved this level of condescension for domestic terrorists in an interrogation room. 

“Oh, I think you can,” Sakazuki replied, with great confidence. “If there’s anything I know, it’s that people don’t change.” 

He paused, giving a meaningful stare. “It’s all over your face, Garp.”

The old man narrowed his eyes, feeling for the first time that Akainu had truly begun to treat him differently. It seemed that Ace's 'death' had become a silent catalyst between them, splitting a deep rift that Garp always knew laid beneath their feet.

He somewhat understood, through Luffy's spoken experiences, that past lives existed. But it was in these sort of moments that Garp felt a tangible force that he could not see, thrumming underneath his daily interactions. The day the old man had laid eyes on Sakazuki, he'd hated him to the core.   
  
But this was neither the place nor time to wage an apparently lifelong battle against a director he shared a professional space with, so Garp replied, “I’m busy. See you around.” 

He thought the younger director would let him off scot-free, but Garp only had to take one step away to be proven wrong. 

“It’s a shame, really,” Sakazuki continued, despite the older man’s clear desire to exit. “I didn’t get to see Luffy’s reaction this time around. That kid always cries like a bitch when Ace dies.” 

The old man felt himself freeze in place, body lagging behind the sudden roar of activity surging in his brain. 

He turned his gaze back, knowing, in his heart, that doing so was a mistake, but still uncontrollably doing it anyway. Garp had an expression like thunder. 

Their eyes met, then. After a deafening moment of silence, Garp uttered, “I don’t know what the hell you’re saying, Sakazuki, but you better not say it again.” 

In that moment, the thin line between life and death had been drawn for Akainu, and it had been drawn by the two security cameras on the opposing ends of that hallway. Garp stormed off, thinking only of murder. 

* * *

Luffy woke up, feeling quite warm. 

He glanced over, face to face with Ace’s sleeping expression. At some point in the middle of the night, the older man had settled an arm on his waist, and held him quite close. Luffy leaned in, seeing the red rims under the commander’s shuttered eyes. 

_He was crying,_ the teen thought, solemnly. 

Luffy felt a wave of pity wash over him. Once, upon waking from a dream, he’d wished that there was someone on the planet who would hold him through it all. Of course, Garp was a terrible option for comfort, so Luffy spent many nights alone. 

He tucked the man’s arm closer, leaning into Ace’s chest. A tranquil feeling swept over the younger brunette, and he closed his eyes, basking in the gentleness of it all. In a matter of moments, Luffy found himself dozing off entirely. 

* * *

“Oh my God, they sleep together,” A hushed voice whispered. “They’re cuddling like puppies.” 

“I didn’t even think Ace was capable of cuddling. Little bastard.” 

“This shit is so gay,” Jozu murmured, filming the whole thing. It was going in his now-extensive documentary of Ace’s life. If anyone ever wanted to make a movie about the second commander of the Whitebeards, they’d have to go through him. 

Marco grabbed the edge of the blanket, as though he was about to rip it off of the two sleeping brunettes. “Wakey wakey,” he muttered, under his breath. 

“Wait, wait,” Izo stopped him, grabbing at his wrist. “Check if they have pants on first. I’m pretty sure Ace is head over heels for him, and you know how that usually goes.” 

One of the other commanders, Haruta, piped up. “But I haven’t even given Ace their condoms yet,” he said, holding up a plastic bag. “What a waste.” 

“Don’t say that shit,” Jozu muttered, still filming. “You look like a 12 year old. It’s fucking weird.” Haruta smacked him with the bag in response. 

Marco sighed. He decided to bite the bullet, and he slowly eased a corner of the blanket upwards, peeking into the shadows underneath. After a moment of squinting into the dark, he confirmed, “Nope. They still have pants on, yoi. Smells normal under there.” 

“Why, isn’t that boring,” Vista commented, from the back of the room. “Here I thought Ace was going to obliterate this kid’s innocence without restraint.” 

The group shared a knowing chuckle. Marco grinned, clearing his throat. He summarily ripped the blankets off of the two cuddling young men, announcing, “Wake up, lovebirds! Time for a meeting, yoi.” 

Ace let out a groan, voice hoarse and cracking like he’d gone to a karaoke bar the night before. “Leave me alone,” he mumbled, holding Luffy closer. 

The commanders allowed for an extended period of silence, where all they did was gather together and smile while Jozu zoomed in on the action. After a good minute, where the coldness of the air sank into the bed, Ace began to open his eyes and wake up. 

“Shit,” he said, then. 

Jozu burst into quiet laughter, zooming in on Ace’s debilitated expression.

“Ace, you look like you got hit by a train,” he commented, into the phone’s mic. “Who hurt you, bro?” 

The second commander responded with a tangible silence, hiding his face shamelessly in Luffy’s hair. “Leave me alone,” he repeated, softly. 

“Oh no... He’s sad,” Jozu whispered. He was not prepared for that. “Wait, what do we do? Give him drugs? Alcohol?” 

Marco’s jaw dropped. “What are you, trying to ruin his life? _Christ.”_

“Rule of thumb,” the blonde began, walking over to the edge of the bed. “Don’t do drugs or alcohol when you’re depressed, or else you’ll never recover, yoi.” He patted Ace’s head, urging the young man to get out of bed. 

“Come on, now. You have a lot of explaining to do. Get up.” 

From this angle, Ace’s agonized frown was visible. 

Marco sighed. “Ace, yoi.” He ruffled the young commander’s hair. “Up. Let’s go. Meeting. I’m sure you read my texts, so don’t say I didn’t tell you about it.” That seemed to have no effect whatsoever. 

Izo saddled up, crouching next to the brunette. “Ace, do you want to talk about it?” He joined in on the patting session, claiming the man’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you today. I mean, we’re here to talk about Luffy’s grandpa, but we’re here for you, too.” 

“Are we all just gonna pet him now?” Jozu asked, video still running. “I want to pet him. Make some room.” He waddled over, patting Ace’s back. “Look, Ace. You’re like our favorite drunk puppy. We love you so much.” Pat, pat. “...I’m showing this video to pops.” 

Everyone joined in on the fun, and all the crowding eventually woke Luffy up. He blinked, glancing around the room. 

“Oh, the boy is awake! Good morning, Luffy.” 

The teen nodded, confused and a little bit chilly. “What’s…” He knocked his forehead against Ace’s cheek, and realized that the man was virtually buried in his neck. His face flushed, slightly. “Ace?” 

Luffy leaned up, though the other man seemed quite disappointed to see him go. “Are we… What’s going on?” He saw everyone petting the commander next to him, and in a swing of confusion, he began to pet him too. “Ace, are you okay?” Luffy asked, patting his cheek (which was now the only open and seemingly appropriate space). 

Ace stared at him so intently in response, that Luffy could not even find words to speak within himself. He continued to pat the man’s cheek, feeling quite cowed and stunned into silence. 

After another moment of patting and embarrassing encouragement, Ace found the will to get out of bed. “Okay,” he muttered, gruffly. “I’m up. You can stop now... Jozu, get that camera off of me.” 

The man laughed, though he shut the camera accordingly. 

“I have breakfast,” Marco revealed, wielding a bag of food. It wafted pleasantly into the air.

Those were the magic words, and Ace and Luffy found themselves clambering in some levels of disorientation towards the living room. 

* * *

Robin and Franky found themselves at the local hospital. 

Usopp had called everyone the day before, claiming that Zoro and Sanji were on a suicide mission to hunt down the first commander of the Whitebeards, and that they had disappeared throughout the day without even a single message or clue as to where they were going. 

Then, this Saturday morning, Robin made her way towards Baratie to check. 

Sanji was there to greet her, swooning like a fevered man. However, when she asked about what had happened in regards to the Whitebeards, he had cryptically answered, “Nothing.” 

“I’m quite sure he’s lying to me,” the professor commented, thinking out loud. “Or rather, he has a sort of attitude when he’s around women, perhaps his heart is too revealing…” 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Franky replied, sardonically. They made their way to the front desk of the hospital lobby. 

“What should we… Do we just ask about him?” The man muttered, staring pointedly at Robin. 

She chuckled. “You’re surprisingly shy,” the professor replied. She took it upon herself to greet the front-desk nurse, asking rather vaguely about Monkey D. Luffy. 

“What’s your relation?” The nurse replied, typing his name into the computer. 

Robin smiled. “I’m his aunt.” 

The nurse nodded, pulling down her glasses and squinting at the screen. “And you said, Monkey D. L-U-F-F-Y?” She paused, waiting on an affirmative response. 

“Yes. Is something wrong?” 

“Well, yeah. This name isn’t in our system.” Predictable. “Are you sure you’ve gone to the right hospital? There’s a few private ones, and another surgery center 5 or 6 miles away…” The woman gave the professor a dubious look. 

Robin hummed, innocently. Franky didn’t dare speak, as he was not as capable of a liar. 

“That’s strange,” she pondered, out loud. “I’m certain this is the hospital. I think he was taken care of by a… Dr. Kureha? Can I talk to her?” 

The nurse tapped her chin. “Well, that certainly _is_ strange. Dr. Kureha is one of our ER’s prominent surgeons. Maybe something’s wrong with the system today…” She sighed. “Well, honestly, Dr. Kureha sort of shows up to work randomly, since she has a lot of seniority here. I don’t know if I can help you, if you’re looking to speak with her.” 

Robin frowned, pursing her lips slightly. “Alright, then. Thank you, I suppose.” 

They turned away, stepping towards the side of the lobby. 

“Well, that got us nowhere,” Franky muttered. “I can’t believe it. What kind of surgeon just shows up whenever she wants?” 

“Are you talking about my mom?” A small voice interjected, behind them. 

The two professors turned around. In the children’s section of the waiting room was a young boy, seemingly no older than 10. He had scruffy hair and a pink baseball cap, and the roundest, cutest doe-like eyes. 

Robin found herself deeply affected. She leaned down, summoning all motherly instincts. “You mean Dr. Kureha, dear?” 

The boy nodded, smiling. “Yeah, she’s my mom! She’s here, but she’s in the middle of a long operation. You can’t see her.”

“He’s so cute, what the hell?” Franky blurted, quietly. “Who is this toddler child…” 

The boy giggled. “I’m Tony, but everyone calls me Chopper. Nice to meet you!” 

Franky and Robin settled down in the little children’s stools next to him. They looked comical, but they hardly cared. “Chopper?” Robin intoned, gently. “What a violent name. Why would they call you that?” 

“Because one day when I’m a surgeon, I’ll chop people’s limbs off.” Tony made an exaggerated motion. “Not to kill them though! To help them.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Franky replied, harrowed yet still enamored. “Good luck, kid.” 

Robin cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you, Chopper. I’m Robin, and this is Franky.” The boy nodded, legs swinging back and forth. “So, are you in the hospital every time your mother is working?” 

Chopper affirmed, “All the time! I come here after school too.” He gave a coy little smile, or as coy as he could manage when he was barely coy to begin with. “I heard you guys talking earlier. You were asking about Luffy, yeah?” 

The two professors leaned in. “Perhaps,” Robin replied, observing the boy carefully. 

“I might know something,” Chopper continued, staring shyly at them. “...Maybe.” 

“...Do you want something, kid?” Franky muttered, brow raised. “Tell us about him and we’ll get what you want.” As long as it was legal. 

The boy grinned. “Really? Even cotton candy?” 

* * *

“He knocked you out?” Jozu clarified, staring at the teen. “Like, your grandpa did?” 

Luffy cocked his head. “Yeah? He does that a lot,” the teen replied. 

The commanders shared a pointed look towards Ace, and the thoroughly stabbed cushions that were on display next to him. In that moment, they understood. 

“So,” Jozu began, leaning forward. “You want me to do something about that, kid? Because I can.” Some other commanders joined in, nodding approvingly. 

“What?” 

“I mean like, do you want me to kill him.” 

Luffy’s eyes widened. “He’s my _grandpa.”_

Jozu nodded. “Nice, nice. You’re very forgiving. If you ever change your mind, hit me up.” He barrelled onto the topic at hand, casually shifting the conversation. “Anyway, you think Garp showing up here is a sign that the FBI has caught on?” 

Ace shook his head tiredly. “If that was the case, he wouldn’t have risked coming here alone for no reason.”

“Then why _did_ he come here?” Marco asked, eyes narrowed. “What was he trying to achieve, yoi?”

The second commander licked his lips, throat running dry. He was quite exhausted, finding it hard to structure an elaborate lie that Marco would see no issues with. Curse the blonde for being smart. 

A beat of silence passed through the room, where Ace found himself incapable of providing even a simple answer. _What did I tell Luffy last night?_ He wondered. Last night seemed so far away. 

After an awkward minute passed, Ace decided that he needed a drink. 

He felt a poetic sort of sadness, a profound melancholy wave that could only drift on the currents of Fireball. He found himself increasingly tired of sobriety, wishing for that eloquent drunken-state of resignation. 

So instead of answering, Ace walked away. He went into the kitchen, promptly pouring himself a shot on ice. 

Marco gaped at him from a distance. “Are we seriously drinking at…” the blonde checked his watch. “...11 in the morning right now?” 

“Yeah,” Ace replied, guzzling the glass. “I’ve already eaten breakfast, so I don’t see a problem. Do you?” 

Like clockwork, the shot was calming him.

Ace felt himself relax almost instantly. It was like he hadn’t just witnessed his soulmate die in the midst of war the night before. Or rather, even if he had, the pain had become serene rather than crushing. 

Ace gave Luffy a mellow stare, settling comfortably back into the living room with the teen by his side. “Want some?” He asked, flashing the bottle.

* * *

By the time the afternoon rolled around, most commanders were wise enough to leave, or incoherently drunk. Ace in particular was divorced from all manners of harmony, whether it be mental, emotional, or physical. Marco was embarrassed on his behalf, and Jozu was, obviously, filming. It was a miracle that the man’s phone hadn’t run out of storage at this point. 

Ace had been bent over the toilet bowl, rambling words that barely sounded like the English language, when Izo found time to corner Luffy on the couch. 

“Hey, Luffy,” he commented, settling down next to the inebriated teen. “What’s going on with Ace, lately?” 

The young brunette turned a sleepy gaze towards him. At some point in the day, someone had ordered pizza, so Luffy took a slice off the table and munched on it contemplatively. After a round of munching, he slurred, “You’re not drinking, Izo... Why?”

The older man pursed his lips. Between the people getting drunk, and the people getting high, and the people doing a terrible mixture of both, Izo had fully intended to remain sober for the day. He’d been slyly nursing a glass of water. 

The man took a sip of said water. “I’m drinking,” he replied. 

Luffy nodded, lethargically. “Kay.”

“...So?” Izo pressed, again. 

The teen blinked. “Huh?” 

The older man sighed. “Is Ace treating you different, lately?” He asked, bluntly. “Because he’s been going crazy over you, if you… Haven’t noticed, somehow.”

“I’ve noticed,” Luffy mumbled, quietly. He took another bite out of the pizza. 

Izo leaned in. “Oh?” 

“He’s…” Luffy drifted off, thinking on the matter. 

“Saying weird things?” Izo interjected. “Cornering you intensely? Smothering you with an awkward stare, maybe? I swear, sometimes it feels like nobody taught Ace manners.” In fact, the young commander only seemed to pick up any sense of decency _after_ joining the Whitebeards.

“What?” The teen asked, dizzily. “Does he do that?” 

The older man chuckled, then. 

Not only did the commander ‘do that’, there were plenty of witnesses to back it up. 

“He’s sort of... _persistent,”_ Izo explained, using gracious terms. “And I think most people are charmed enough to let him have his way.” Ace was lucky he was attractive, because he was not suave. “Did he actually say anything weird to you lately?” 

Luffy paused, genuinely considering the matter. His eyes widened slightly, as though something had come to mind. 

Izo leaned in, catching the shift in his expression. “Did he…” the man chuckled, gripping his glass. “...Did he say anything like, ‘let’s fuck’, or ‘I know how to deepthroat’, or ‘what if we were naked’?” 

“Wh...What,” Luffy replied, startled. Sometimes it was hard to process how different Ace could be when he wasn’t a responsible person. 

“No?” He replied, though the night they spent watching that one television show had admittedly flitted into his mind. “He just…” Luffy paused. “I don’t know, he just stares at me a lot.” The teen pursed his lips, finding his teetering sense of eloquence suffering even greater during these trying times. “I don’t think he realizes when he’s touching me. And how long he does it.” 

Izo barked a laugh. 

“I’m sure Ace isn’t remotely aware of how he looks, when he looks at you,” the older man commented. “If he was, he would have stopped out of sheer embarrassment by now.”

The teen hummed quietly in response. 

“You know,” Izo began. 

Luffy glanced back at him, waiting. 

“Ace has been mumbling a lot of random statements in the last 20 minutes,” the older man stated, sipping at his glass. Ace had been (very loosely) speaking about his encounter with Garp, and whatever subsequent conversation they’d had. “I’m sure he’s confusing the hell out of anyone who’s in the bathroom with him right now.” 

“...Yeah?” The teen murmured. 

“But,” and this was where Izo braved a glance at the younger brunette, “It all sort of makes sense, if you look at it through the lens of past lives.” 

Luffy stared at him openly, as though caught in headlights. 

Izo continued, smiling now. “Ah. I’m not wrong, am I?” He took a satisfactory sip. 

The teen’s lips drifted open, as though he was on the verge of speaking. A moment passed, but he couldn’t seem to find the words, so he went back to his pizza and finished the slice. 

Izo continued. “I’m taking it that whatever Ace is remembering is the same thing you remember?” 

It was one of the many phrases that the second commander was echoing miserably into the toilet bowl. _I remember, I remember, I remember._

Luffy leaned back into the couch, breathing a weary sigh. He was too far-gone to say anything other than the naked, vulnerable truth, so he simply replied, “It just hurts when we both remember.” 

Izo fell silent, and gave him a gentle pat on the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall, do _not_ cope like ace. his method is so bad. he is so lucky he has his friends LOL... granted, he's going thru a ruff time rn and he would like ur patience and understanding (´∀｀)♡ no joke, i like to imagine that ace is naturally a disaster child, and he spends every lifetime figuring out that he needs to become a polite and decent human being in order to survive
> 
> the real ship of this fic is garp+akainu/their obvious hatred and disgust for eachother（*´▽`*) its soothing to write a scenario where they can just be openly murderous for no reason


	13. Wait, what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luffy, simply put, comes to terms.

Ace woke up the next day, feeling so disoriented that he could not even remember if he’d dreamed the night before. He opened his eyes, seeing stars dance gleefully in his vision; the soft glow of sunlight still felt blinding. 

“Holy fuck,” he uttered, fighting a churning feeling in his stomach. The commander leaned up out of bed, realizing that he’d had no recollection of how he’d gotten there in the first place. Luffy was in bed too, sleeping quite soundly. 

There was an empty waste bin with a plastic bag tucked over it, along with several more plastic bags laid out on the floor; somebody had prepared for the possibility of him puking his brains out, apparently. 

_Thanks, Marco,_ Ace said, in his head. He’d text the man later.

The brunette shakily stood, grabbing the waste bin and holding it like a baby to his chest. He swore, mentally, to never drink again. 

_I’m not even going to drink beer,_ Ace thought. _I’m going to quit all my vices. I’m going to go vegetarian. I’m going to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and I’ll live a meek and polite existence, forever._

While Ace didn’t exactly remember everything, he remembered enough to know that whatever Jozu got on camera would be sufficient to humiliate him for the rest of his life. The embarrassment of drunkenly grieving into a toilet bowl, with Marco lecturing him on the side, was possibly overwhelming enough to push Ace in an entirely different life-direction altogether. 

_Hey, maybe I’ll even try going to college and getting a respectable degree in something._

He entertained these ideas for all of five minutes, and summarily puked. 

It was after a dizzy moment of reorienting himself, and clearing the waste bin to prepare another plastic bag, that a loud knock resounded at Ace’s door. 

He glanced up, a feeling of dread sinking into the pit of his stomach. The brunette felt another tidal wave of nausea threatening his body. 

If the person at the other end of that door was somehow Garp, Ace would probably vomit out of sheer irritation. 

He warily crept up to the hallway, waste bin in one hand, and a knife in the other. Yet another knock rapped at the door, and Ace grit his teeth, palm tightening on his knife’s handle. He unlocked the door slowly, easing it open. 

It was Whitebeard. 

The commander was instantly dumbstruck— he dropped the knife immediately, murmuring an apology. 

“What are you saying sorry about?” Newgate asked, entering the apartment. 

“I—, I,” Ace stammered, dizzy. “I don’t know?” He picked the knife off from the ground, tucking it into a shelf somewhere. _I almost stabbed my dad,_ the brunette thought. _Fuck._

Whitebeard glanced down at him, raising a brow. Ace realized, then, that he was still carrying a waste bin. He didn’t dare place it down, in case he needed it for yet another nauseated emergency. 

“I heard you weren’t doing so well yesterday,” Newgate began, strolling into the living room. “In fact, I’ve heard that you weren’t doing so well, period.” He glanced pointedly at the disordered space, and laid a lingering eye on the thoroughly battered couch. 

Ace bowed, apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, pops. I’m,” he stuttered, barely knowing where to begin. “I’m terrible. I treated everything you gave me so poorly. I’ll never do that again, I swear, I’ll—,” 

Newgate put a hand on his shoulder, leading Ace back into an upright position. “If you bend down like that, you’re definitely going to puke. If you have something to say, you can just say it like this, son.” 

Ace flushed a crimson red. He was feeling queasy already. 

“Y-yeah. That would be very rude of me, wouldn’t it. I’m sorry I’m so rude. And for worrying you. I’m going to stop being like this.” The brunette pursed his lips, realizing that if he wasn’t physically vomiting, he was definitely verbally vomiting right now. 

“I’m just going to stop.” Forever, if he could. It was his new personal revelation, in lieu of all the terrible events of the last two weeks. Ace was, simply put, going to stop. 

The old man laughed, settling down on the couch. “I’m pretty sure you say that in every lifetime.” 

_Shit,_ Ace thought, then. _What’s the point of having a ‘revelation’ if you’ve apparently already had it before?_

Then the statement struck him. He glanced back at his father, eyes wide. 

Whitebeard returned the stare, smiling casually. 

Ace sucked in a breath, clutching his waste bin like it was a lifeline. “D… Do I?” He asked the man, then. “Do I say that?” Did he always say that? 

Newgate invited him to sit, patting the empty cushion. The brunette haphazardly settled down, eyes trained on the floor in front of him. His head was beginning to spin as much as his stomach. 

After a distinctly profound silence, the young commander began to speak. 

“...How many times have I called you pops?” He asked. 

The brunette subtly glanced over, watching the old man with some level of apprehension. Newgate smiled so fondly at him, that it hurt Ace to see. 

“How many lifetimes, you mean?” The old man asked, pondering the matter. “There’ve been many, Ace. There were times where I wasn’t even your pops, and you’d slip up and call me that anyway. And then there were times where you weren’t even my son, and I’d slip up and call you that, too.” 

The confirmation spurred both pride and humility within the brunette. He wore a raw expression, feeling as though he’d been roughly shaken awake and forced to face the music. Except, the music sounded wonderful. 

“I can’t believe it,” Ace uttered, quietly. He looked at his father and saw that recognition, of too many lifetimes shared with a single person. The brunette looked away, heart pounding recklessly. _Settle down,_ the commander thought, holding tight to his bearings, _Now is not the time to puke._

“What, does it surprise you that much?” Whitebeard asked, grinning then.

“No,” Ace replied, almost immediately. “I’ll always be your son.” This, he stated calmly, as though he was writing destiny with his very own hand. “Even if I’m someone different, in another life.” 

Ace lingered on his first memories with the old man, standing at his mother’s grave. _So that was fate._

Whitebeard ruffled the brunette’s hair, eyes crinkling with joy. “The soul doesn’t forget, son.” 

Ace sat there, letting himself get pet while he carried his own weight over the waste bin on his lap. After a few minutes of processing, the brunette found himself not short of tears. He bit his cheek, crying again, without any excuse of drugs or alcohol to hide behind. 

Newgate pulled away, waiting for the young man to speak. 

“It’s real,” Ace murmured, speaking a heartbroken revelation aloud. “All this pain is real.” 

He didn’t dare look at the older man, too afraid to speak what was on his mind while staring Newgate in the face. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve been born to die,” the brunette muttered. Frustration clawed inside of him. “Why am I so good at that? Why is dying all that I’m good for?” 

“Nobody on this planet exists to die,” Whitebeard replied. “I’ve told you this already.” 

Ace nodded, though he couldn’t help but feel quite sorry for himself. “It’s just,” he paused, sniffling. “I literally don’t even remember one dream where I’m old. I don’t have a single dream where I make it past 30. I’ve never had grey hair, in any of my lifetimes.” 

The old man chuckled. “Most people would consider that a blessing, you know?” 

“It’s not,” Ace replied, firmly. “I rarely ever pass away peacefully, either. Every nightmare I’ve had,” and there were a great deal of them, “has ended with pain. I’ve hurt so many people.” He’d had a myriad of faces and names, all of them urging him to live, and he’d failed each and every one of them. Ace felt as though the burden of the world was on his shoulders. 

“I’m just like my father,” the commander realized, miserably. He wiped his face, grimacing through the hell of it all. “I don’t mean you, pops,” he muttered, clarifying. “I wish I was like you.” 

Reliable. Strong. An old man, even. 

“I promise you, you are _very_ far from your father,” Whitebeard replied, chuckling. “You’re a kind young boy, Ace, and you’re always so grateful. Too grateful, sometimes.” He turned the brunette’s cheek, forcing the young man to look at him. Ace did, though he was quite tearful and embarrassed. 

“Look at you, son. Even when you face your own death, you cry for the sake of others. What was it that finally caused you to break, Ace?” 

The commander paused, thinking back to the dream that had opened him like a wound. “I dreamed that Luffy died in my place,” he admitted. The words wrenched him in the gut, and Ace nervously hovered over the waste bin again. “...It was the worst feeling in the world,” he finished, quietly. 

“You see?” Whitebeard asserted, with a nod. 

“I don’t really know how that proves anything,” Ace murmured, hesitantly. 

“It shows me your priorities, son. What will you do, now that you have all these memories guiding you?” 

The brunette blinked, wiping away at his tear-ridden cheeks. “I… I’ll live? I think if I die at this point, I’m going to be pissed at myself in my next life.” Pissed didn’t even seem to be a strong enough word. 

“Good! Hold onto that feeling,” Whitebeard stated, patting the man’s back. “If not for yourself, me, or anyone else, then for Luffy at least.” 

Ace sniffed, and smiled, softly. He let himself get swept away in a decidedly romantic idea. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking for a while,” the commander began, eyes drifting away. “If Luffy hadn’t saved me that night, I probably would have died, right?” 

Whitebeard nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“And if he hadn’t gotten his arm injured, and had no one to care for him, I probably would have run off to hunt Teach instead of letting you hide me here.” Ace had truly felt that the decision to shelter him was an act of cowardice, though he now understood why Whitebeard had insisted. 

“Oh, you _definitely_ would have. You would have shaved a year right off of my life, doing that,” Newgate stated, with an undeniable certainty. Experience, even. “In a way, I’m glad that kid got shot.” It may have cost the teen a few months spent in a cast, but that was a price that Whitebeard was willing to pay. 

Ace laughed, quietly. “Yeah, funny enough.” And then he continued, speaking his quietest feelings out loud. “It feels like fate, doesn’t it? I didn’t know that, after all these dreams, I could feel that fate was on my side.” 

The brunette smiled the first genuine smile that he’d had for the last few days. “After all, can it really be against me, if it led me once to my father, and then to my soulmate?” 

Newgate stopped in his tracks, staring openly at him. 

“...What,” Ace asked, hesitating. 

The old man cocked a brow. “Do you mean… Luffy?” 

Ace blinked at him. “Well. Yeah?” 

Silence descended upon the two. 

Then, Whitebeard began to _thunderously_ laugh. 

* * *

Luffy woke up in the afternoon. He looked around, seeing Ace nowhere to be found on the bed. The kid stumbled off the mattress, woozily standing on the cold floor. He hadn’t drank nearly as much as Ace had, but it was enough to leave him feeling less-than-connected with gravity. 

The teen wandered out of the room, smelling that familiar smell of Sanji’s cooking. His eyes widened. 

Luffy stumbled to the kitchen, walking as smoothly as his feet permitted. Ace was cooking, and it seemed he was using one of the chef’s recipes. It was as though Sanji himself was behind the stove. 

“Ace?” Luffy asked, utterly amazed. “That smells so good, how’d you do that?” 

The man turned over, eyes wide. “Luffy,” he replied, looking as though he hadn’t passed out in a bathroom the night before. The teen was taken aback by Ace’s seemingly harmonious expression. “Good… Afternoon,” the commander continued, glancing at the stove’s clock; 12:30 PM. 

“And I have Sanji’s recipe book, remember?” Ace flashed the notepad, open to the 'fried rice' page. 

Luffy frowned. There was a lifetime in which he’d had access to every single one of Sanji’s personal recipes, but that didn’t mean he could replicate it, however hard he tried. “It smells just like his cooking,” he commented, thoroughly impressed.

Ace smiled, quite pleased with himself. “Well, I paid very close attention to what he wrote.” 

The teen cocked his head. He could have sworn that the older man was having an existential crisis just the night before. Now, it seemed that between the hours of 12 AM and 12 PM, Ace had found some semblance of inner peace. 

“My pops stopped by today,” Ace began, while scooping up some rice. 

Luffy nodded, openly watching the older brunette. 

“Honestly,” the man flushed, “I think someone showed him the… State of things, yesterday. He came to check up on my wellbeing.” As any father with a conscience would, upon seeing Ace’s utter mental deterioration. 

The teen hummed.

Ace looked carefully at the younger brunette. “You know, you never did tell me what you and my pops were talking about.” 

Luffy peeked at him under his bangs. Ace’s expression seemed unreadable. 

The commander set out two plates, siphoning an equal amount of fried rice for both. “Lunch is ready,” Ace stated, handing a plate over with a smile. “Let’s go sit down.”

So they sat together, eating possibly the best meal Ace had ever managed to cook in his entire life. 

Luffy, now quite distracted by the meal in front of him, began to shovel fried rice directly down his throat, as if bypassing the mouth entirely. It was only after a few minutes of Ace watching him that the teen began to slow down. He swallowed thickly, realizing that the older man had eaten maybe five or six mouthfuls of his own plate. 

“If you don’t eat that, I’ll eat it for you,” the teen mumbled, through his rice. Now was a good time for Ace to pass out into his dish, actually.

The older brunette fiddled with his spoon, looking as though he’d had something rather important to say. The teen gave him a perplexed stare. What the hell was going through Ace’s head right now? There was an incredible plate of fried rice in front of him, that he himself had gone through the trouble of making. 

“What’s up,” Luffy asked, between mouthfuls. He narrowed his eyes.

Ace set the spoon down, putting a hand to his cheek. The man stared contemplatively at the teen, and began to voice his thoughts. 

“Luffy, I,” the commander paused. It seemed there was no easy way to say this. “You asked me once, whether or not I’d forgotten.” 

The teen slowed his intake, eyes widening minutely. 

“And, since then... I’ve, remembered a great deal of things,” Ace stated, hesitating in his words. 

Very silently, Luffy swallowed his mouthful of rice. His heart picked up speed in his chest, and he took in yet another mouthful to quell said organ. 

Ace, seeing that the teen was not going to speak, continued on his soliloquy. “I talked to my pops today. And he told me that I probably needed to have a conversation with you, and honestly—, I think I get you more clearly than ever now.” 

_Do you?_ The teen thought, quietly. There was no amount of fried rice in the world that could subdue the jittery feeling in his soul, but God knew that Luffy tried to (b)eat it down anyway. 

He knew precisely where this was going. He saw it in that shine of remembrance in Ace’s eyes, that sudden sense of certainty, even urgency. Whatever had happened that morning must have realigned the commander entirely. Whitebeard always had a profound effect on him. 

So the teen waited, quite expectant, for the inevitable confirmation. The commander sucked in a breath, seemingly summoning the courage to push them both over the edge of acknowledgement:

"Were we... lovers, in our past life?" Ace asked, with some level of trepidation.

Luffy's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "Were we _what_ now."

The rice fell directly out of his mouth, and onto the plate. A clattering rang through the air, that signified that the teen had definitely dropped his spoon as well. 

“Wh… Well, you don’t have to look so shocked,” Ace stammered, nearly offended by the reaction. It was only after a terrible beat of silence where the commander’s own eyes widened as well, and he said, “Wait, what?” 

The teen returned the phrase, still thunderstruck. “What?”

Ace’s expression became deeply concerned. “Luffy, what were we in our past lives?” 

“We—, I—,” the teen stuttered, short-circuiting. _Do we even have the same memories?_ Luffy wondered, blankly. “We were—, We were a lot of things, Ace. Past lives aren’t all the same,” he answered, which wasn’t a lie. 

“Okay, so what the hell were we, _plural?”_

The teen fell silent. He had the feeling that this answer was going to deeply disrupt Ace’s newfound inner peace, but he said it anyway: “I don’t know, brothers?” 

_“What?”_

“I mean, that was one lifetime,” the teen continued, “Sometimes we were just... Best friends! You were my neighbor once. We went to the same school in another life? And once we worked together at the same place.” 

Ace did not seem to hear any of this. “We were _brothers?”_ He repeated, scandalized. 

“...We weren’t related?” Luffy retorted, in a decidedly non-smooth manner. 

The older man put a hand to his forehead, staring blankly at his rice dish. “Great, we were _step-brothers._ At least Pornhub approves of this.” 

“Approves of _what?”_ Luffy asked, eyes wide. He seriously needed some clarification on exactly what was going through Ace’s head. And furthermore, what did Pornhub have to do with any of this? 

The commander stared at the teen, cheeks burning in mortification. Ace couldn’t be bothered to give him a truthful answer, and he could only pray that the teen would not press the matter.

But, it seemed that Izo had already planted the seed. 

Luffy hesitated briefly, expression the very picture of confusion. “Ace, do you want to—,” his brows furrowed, as though this was an incredibly difficult concept to grasp, “—Have sex with me?” 

Ace stared directly at the wall. “What? No. Why would I, we’re _step-brothers_ apparently.” 

Deathly silence. 

“We were,” Luffy corrected, blankly. “Not anymore.” 

Ace shot him an empty look, as though the older brunette was now the one short-circuiting.

“I… Well… Yeah,” the man spoke, dumbly. “Yeah.” 

The teen stared at his plate, realizing that those words may have propelled Ace into deeper confusion. “Um.” He went back to his rice, shoveling it at a dramatically slower pace than before. 

They ate the rest of their lunch with very little conversation. 

Frankly, neither needed any further conversation. Even with the silence alone, they had both arrived at the same conclusion; a conclusion that, having once been a relatively day-to-day occurrence, now rattled the two men like the very tempestuous wind itself: Luffy had yet to take his shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the fact that the dialogue in this chap literally ended with "Um." is still killing me LMAO 
> 
> im so sorry guys, i swing between the pendulum of comedy and tragedy, and the swinging is not predictable, even, or well-balanced. we're all in this together ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 
> 
> i told a commenter that i hadn't written ace speaking w/ whitebeard about his emotions because it would seem too ridiculous to me, but then i ended up writing it because... the ridiculousness was impossible to resist LOL


	14. Forbidden Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace thinks a lot. Luffy decides to not-think.

This was agony.

Ace found himself in a predictable cycle, where he thought himself fully centered and finally at peace, only to be knocked from the back of his knees by some new, unexpected revelation. Ace was, in simple words, constantly hitting new lows. 

_How much shame can one man take?_ He hesitated to answer, because it seemed reality was lurking around the corner, armed with a bat, waiting to take him off guard. In his case, the answer tended to be, _“More.”_

The matter with Luffy was genuinely perplexing; Ace literally could not imagine a higher form of love within his own existence. He was singularly infatuated with the teen, enough to have apparently died for him several times over. Furthermore, that sentiment seemed to be returned in full by Luffy himself. 

Was there ever going to be someone he loved more? Was there going to be a person that Ace would die _harder_ for? Who? Where? When? How? 

Ace had hit a definitive ceiling within his emotional spectrum, and if he’d gone any further, he was almost certain he’d lose his mind. Yet somehow, as infinitely expansive as his feelings seemed to be for the teen, Luffy saw him in plainer terms, most disturbing of which was _step-brother._

Almost robotically, Ace was inserting the term into all of his memories, as if shoving a misshapen puzzle-piece around in attempts to have it fit the rest of the picture: _“Promise me, step-brother…”, “Please don’t leave me, step-brother…”, “Thank you for loving me, step-brother…”_

 _Madness,_ he thought. _Fucking madness._

What was even more maddening was that this term— that is, _step-brothers,—_ did nothing to abate Ace’s naturally growing feelings. It felt as though he had a particularly strong desire to get his hands on a fruit, only to find out, halfway, that said fruit was forbidden. 

Or at least, that’s how it felt, as he awkwardly stood there in the bathroom with Luffy. 

The teen looked up at him, with a more guarded expression than ever.

It was, frankly, amazing. Only an hour ago they had mutually come to terms with dozens of years of shared memories, and yet here they stood, flinching and gasping as though facing the touch of a stranger. 

_How the hell could this have happened,_ Ace thought, in despair. He blamed himself for not having the foresight to wait until Luffy’s arm had healed. 

But, the issue of blame could come later. First came the issue of undressing the teen. 

Because that had indeed become an issue. 

Luffy absorbed emotions like a sponge. At least, he did so when he was in a room full of people he was comfortable with. When everyone laughed, he laughed. When everyone cried, he cried. When Ace fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, cheeks turning a darker and darker scarlet, eyes averting yet burning a hole into the younger man’s skin, Luffy, too, began to flush uncontrollably. 

_This is my shirt,_ Ace thought passingly, slipping said garment off the teen’s shoulders. It cascaded to the floor, feeling all-too-sensuous for a motion so commonly repeated by gravity. 

Alas, Luffy was topless. 

“...”

Ace didn’t dare to touch the waistband of the teen’s shorts. In fact, he felt the dire need to turn away, and fixate on something else. So he redirected his attention to the shower, turning the thing on and making sure the water was a decent temperature. 

Yet still he heard that unmistakable jiggling, of a metal button coming undone, and then a metal zipper being unzipped, and Ace felt a distinct, familiar heat pooling deep down in between his thighs, only exacerbated by the thud that Luffy’s shorts made as they hit the floor. 

He stared at the bottom half of his own body like it was an utter disappointment. 

Which, it was.

The teen brushed by him, barely glancing at the older man, and stepped into the shower. Ace got an eyeful of his body. _Step-brother!_ He duly reminded himself. 

Then again, Ace’s brain supplied him with Luffy’s own response: _Not anymore._

What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Was that a reassurance? An _invitation?_ What were they, in this life? What were they _supposed_ to be?

Did fate plan for Ace to have an existential crisis over his own sexuality? If so, for fuck’s sake, **_why?_ **

The commander mentally grappled with himself for all of five minutes. This was not enough time for him to recenter, because soon enough, the teen needed his help. “Ace,” Luffy called, more hesitant than ever. He held a glistening hand out, dragging the curtain slightly to the side. 

“Y-yeah?” Ace nearly choked on his own spit. _He’s wet. He’s naked._ And above all, _He needs something from me._

The commander ceased to have coherent thoughts, other than, _Oh my God._

“Can you help me with my back?” The teen asked, with an uncertain but ultimately trusting stare. Ace held onto that visible trust, for it was the only thing that grounded him. There was no point in him being the one to aid Luffy through his injury, if the teen wasn’t going to be able to rely on his consistently good behavior. 

“Yeah,” Ace answered, strained. “Just, sit down.” 

So the teen sat, perched on the tub’s edge. 

All it was, in reality, was the dispersion of soap on skin. But for the first time, it felt as though Luffy was focused, introspecting on the feeling of Ace’s hand as it rested upon his neck, the dips of his shoulders, and the small curves along his spine. This had not always been the case. Any other time, it seemed as though the teen didn’t particularly react at all. 

Everywhere that Ace touched, he could feel the most minute movements cording along Luffy’s muscles, so much so that the air seemed to tighten between them. When he pulled his hand away, and the sponge along with it, he felt as though he could barely breathe. 

Ace’s body was perfectly still, but he could have sworn his organs were shaking like leaves in the wind. “I’m done,” he uttered, heart pounding. Somehow, that had seemed like an elaborate test. 

“Okay,” the teen answered, getting up. “Thanks, Ace.” And so his shower continued. 

Ace turned on the sink, sealing the drain. As a form of meditation, he filled the sink with ice-cold water, submerging his hands and watching the subsequent ripples. His body shrivelled instantly, and all thoughts of Luffy disappeared somewhere. _Nice._

Of course, this did not last long. Another five to ten minutes passed, and soon enough, the teen turned off the shower, wringing the curtains back. 

Ah, yes. 

It was time, for perhaps what was the most taxing part of what was once Luffy’s regular shower routine. While it was fairly simple for the teen to take his pants off, he was clumsy, so it was a much harder task for him to put them back on. Thus, as with most physically challenging tasks, the responsibility had been delegated to Ace. 

He swallowed, thickly. The older man backed himself into the corner, realizing then that the bathroom-space was just too damned small. 

Luffy had a towel in his good hand, sloppily running it along his face. He glanced over at the commander, hesitant stare returning. _What the hell is going through your head,_ Ace wondered, not for the first time, but especially intensely this time. 

The commander sighed, then, and decided to get it all over with. 

He grabbed a new pair of shorts, tucking the boxers in so that he wouldn’t have to do this twice. “Are you dry?” The older man asked, not daring to take a glance at the teen’s nude form. 

“...Yeah,” Luffy replied. 

Very carefully, the commander searched the tiled flooring for the younger man’s feet. He fixated solely on Luffy’s feet, and bent down to his knees. Ace slid the pants up, eyes drifting where his hands led, until he reached the teen’s thighs and realized he absolutely had to look _anywhere_ else—

And so Ace’s gaze went skyward, and he looked Luffy directly in the eyes. As it turns out, this was possibly a worse choice. 

They stared at each other, mouths open and eyes wide. 

It was only then that Ace got the impression that Luffy was openly appraising him, as though he was intrigued by the sight of the commander kneeling on the floor, hands gripped at his waistband. Ace felt, in the most damning manner, saliva build in his own mouth, and he tried to swallow it all down. 

He zipped and buttoned the younger brunette, promptly letting go. The commander only wished that Luffy would stop staring at him. 

“How’s this shirt?” Ace asked, still quivering internally. If he’d been drunk, he would have probably blown the teen right then and there. The man was decidedly not used to scenarios where he was morally compelled to not fuck someone. 

“It’s fine,” Luffy replied, after a beat. So Ace slid him into the shirt, realizing belatedly that it was yet again one of the commander’s own. _Why does literally everything feel so fucking erotic?_ He yelled, mentally. 

He buttoned the front, which unfortunately brought them quite close to each other, but Ace found himself mentally deep-fried at this point so it was tolerable. 

“We’re good,” he said, weakly. “Let’s, go… Do something.” Anything. Even sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling for four hours sounded nice. 

* * *

“Do you really…” Franky paused, falling silent. He had no conception of how to continue his train of thought. 

“Yes?” Robin asked, glancing over. It was Sunday, and the two professors decided to meet at a cafe, as they’d had an entire night to ponder the conversation between them and Chopper. It was hardly coherent, but it seemed that Robin believed every word. 

“This is…” The man stuttered. “It’s just… This is crazy. I mean, first, you hacked into a public system to find out about this kid, and now you want to confront a gang? Is this... Is this _worth_ it? You could get arrested, or even die, you know.” 

The woman smiled, coyly. “Are you nervous now?” 

They had confirmation that Ace was alive, and that furthermore, Luffy had spoken of some life-or-death mission that involved the man. The teen had apparently been rambling about reincarnation while he was drugged, and Chopper had gotten an earful of what seemed to be lucid hallucinations. 

“I mean, you’re literally staking everything on something a ten year old told you.” 

Robin shrugged. “I can believe it.” 

Franky stared at her, utterly bewildered. “Can you?” He asked, then. 

She smiled at him, giving the man a considering stare. It was after a long moment of silence, when Robin began to speak again. 

“Do you know what Luffy calls me?” She asked. 

Franky blinked. He thought about it, and then gave a shrug. “I don’t know, what?”

“Robin,” the woman answered. “He calls me Robin.” 

The man frowned. “O… Okay?” He replied, with a perplexed expression. “And? He calls me Franky. It’s my name.” 

Robin laughed into her palm. She giggled for a solid half-minute before continuing with her thoughts. “Everyone calls you Franky, so that isn’t too surprising.” He was known to be one of the most relaxed professors in the school. “But students are too intimidated to call me anything other than professor Nico. Despite this, Luffy has called me Robin from the first day that I met him.” 

She smiled quite fondly.

“Do you know what Luffy calls other teachers, aside from us?” 

Franky shrugged again, now ensnared by her train of thought. “...Well, I don’t know. What?” 

Robin gave him a little grin. “He doesn’t remember any of their names,” she answered. “He’s gotten every other teacher’s names wrong. In fact, he’s gone to detention for this reason, more times than I can count.” She paused, giving the man a meaningful stare. “Tell me, Franky, did Luffy ever forget your name?” 

The man fell silent. 

It did not take much reasoning for him to arrive at the answer. “...No. He’s always…” 

He paused, then, confusion growing in his expression. “Robin, are you implying that past-lives are real? Because that is still an _incredibly_ hard pill to swallow.” 

The woman broke into another laugh, as though she hadn’t just presented the man with a shattering world-view. “I’m not implying that they’re real, Franky. They simply are.” 

He sat there, utterly stunned with her. 

Robin folded her hands together, sitting back in her chair. The weather was utterly serene, and her expression matched it. “I have this one memory,” she began, staring at the people who passed by the window. “I do think, now, that it’s from a past life. It certainly isn’t from this one.” 

Franky stared at her, sipping on his soda as she spoke. He didn’t dare interrupt, now quite absorbed. 

“Luffy was part of it. You were, as well.” There was a faraway look in her eyes, and for a moment, Robin seemed much older than she actually was. “There was a time in which you and I were at odds with the world, and he was the one who came running to save us.” 

_“...Him?_ Are you _sure?”_

Robin smiled, then. “Yes, him. And he didn’t think twice about it. Is it any surprise to you, then, that I would give up everything to try to help him?” She glanced over at the man, a quirk in her lip. “And are you not surprised by your own behavior, Franky? Because I do believe you’re still sitting here, though you’ve had every chance to leave.” 

“I…” The man paused, mouth open. “Well…” 

* * *

Whitebeard’s office was echoing with the sounds of drunk-Ace, as Jozu had decided to play the videos on repeat, at full volume, while laughing hysterically. 

Marco gave the man a deadpan stare, mouth open and brows furrowed. “I can’t believe that’s what you got out of yesterday, yoi.” He turned over to his old man, who seemed to be barely holding it together himself. “How was he this morning?” 

Whitebeard glanced at him, mirthfully. The man lasted all of five seconds before bursting into his own hysterical laughter, and thus Marco found himself sandwiched between two men who were losing it. 

“Yoi…” 

He sighed, deeply. It seemed as though he was the only person who was concerned that an FBI director had stumbled across Ace’s hideout, while another agent had simultaneously infiltrated their weapons dealings warehouses, within the span of about a week. 

He voiced this out loud, and the fact of the matter did bring a somber mood upon the room. Well, as somber as it could be, when Jozu’s videos were still echoing in the background. Ace’s guttural noises sounded rather comical, once you’ve heard it long enough. 

“You’re absolutely right,” Whitebeard affirmed, patting the man’s back. “But Ace said it himself, didn’t he? Garp erased Luffy’s hospital records. The FBI’s technological advantage is no joke, but it seems like the guy is taking his grandson’s side.” He smirked, quite pleased about it all. 

Marco tucked his chin in his hands. He glanced over at Jozu. “And the agent?” 

The man sucked his teeth, thumping back into the couch. “Dude, I can’t do this psychological bullshit. If I can’t beat the answer out of him, then it’s not coming out at all. And trust me, I have _tried.”_

The blonde hummed in response. “How irritating, yoi.”

“Maybe you should talk some sense into him,” Jozu retorted, glancing over at the fellow commander. Marco wasn’t very interested in beating the ever-living fuck out of someone, so more often than not, he found the right phrase to open a person up. 

“He doesn’t sound like he’s interested in sense,” Marco commented. “But... It's worth a try.” 

“What’ll you do?” 

He paused. “Maybe I’ll confuse him first. I’ll treat his wounds or something, yoi.” There was nothing funnier than watching a stubborn asshole flounder with confusion when you did something nice for him. 

* * *

It was late into the night. Ace was tucked into a ball on the couch, eyes staring blankly at the television screen. 

Luffy glanced over, assessing the state of the older man. He was on the verge of falling asleep. It occurred to the teen then, that if Ace fell asleep on the couch, it would be rather hard for him to drag the man into the bedroom. 

“Ace?” He asked, prodding at the man’s arm. “Let’s go to bed.” 

The commander blinked lethargically, yawning at the very mention of a bed. Then, after a beat of silence, his eyes widened. “T… Together?” He glanced over at Luffy, as though after weeks of sleeping next to the teen, he suddenly needed permission. 

Luffy paused, frowning slightly. 

“Yeah,” he replied, reaching for the older man’s hand. “Let’s go.” 

Despite however Ace’s turbulent emotions were impacting him, Luffy had no intention of going through a lifetime where they both remembered their shared history and slept apart from each other regardless. That was, above all things, unthinkable and unnecessary. 

“Should I?” Ace asked, in a daze. 

Luffy’s brows knitted together. He felt a tingling of irritation. “Of course you should,” he retorted. “Why shouldn’t you? Just because you like me?” 

Ace flushed, startled awake. Neither had spoken of the silent tension that had developed between them, and Luffy was the first to dare to mention it out loud. 

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t _want_ to sleep with you,” the commander replied, in a strained voice. 

Luffy cut him off. “So do it.”

The older man froze, mouth parted, though no words emerged from him. It seemed that Ace could not continue, possibly out of some sense of shame. 

After a moment of silence, the commander asked, “Have you ever fallen for me, in a past life?” It seemed he needed to know. 

The teen fell silent, genuinely pondering the matter. 

“I don’t know,” he answered, with a miserable little frown. “You always died.” Luffy gripped tighter onto Ace’s hand, tighter than ever. “Can we go to sleep?” 

The older brunette sucked in a breath, then. “Well,” he murmured, weakly. “When you say it like that, I can’t possibly leave you alone.” 

“Then don’t,” the teen replied, quietly. 

Luffy waited a beat, still unraveling his own thoughts on the matter. In this lifetime, looking into Ace’s eyes sometimes felt like looking directly into fire. It made the teen feel heated and jittery, and Izo's confirmation of the man's behavior only cemented this new reality. Luffy had never been gazed at so intently, as though the man was trying to strip him bare with just a stare alone. 

But in truth, Luffy found that perhaps he didn’t mind. “I don’t care what goes through your head when you’re with me,” the teen elaborated. “As long as you don’t hate me.” If there was ever a lifetime where the older man hated him, Luffy would find that life truly unbearable. This, in comparison, was fine.

“You… Really don’t mind?” Ace asked, then. He was red-faced, as he had been for most of the day. 

The teen pursed his lips, shuffling the man off of the couch. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” he uttered, with certainty. “Let’s go to sleep.” 

So they clambered back to the bedroom, tucking under the blankets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i updated in two days omfg.... i literally added the _'step-brothers' in italics at all times_ tag because of this singular chapter, and i intend to live up to this tag for the rest of the fic LOL (｀▽´) u can literally imagine that ace was shaking like a chihuahua for this entire chap, and u wouldnt be wrong 
> 
> there's a lot of mental realignment happening in this chap, but i think ultimately luffy is willing to be close to ace, even if he's pretty much fully aware of how feral ace's horniness is. now the real question is, will he **succumb to the horny???**


End file.
